


The Record Keeper's Dream

by makkurataichou



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Historical AU, M/M, and also an excuse to look into ToZ lore, basically an excuse to write librarian!Mikleo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-08-11 22:51:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7910671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makkurataichou/pseuds/makkurataichou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikleo has been a record keeper of Avarost for centuries, avoiding all contact with humans. When a new Shepherd is chosen, he expects things to be no different. But fate has other plans.</p><p>AU loosely based on Zestiria lore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really excited to be writing this! Zestiria's lore isn't particularly concrete, but I wanted to write an AU set during the rise of the Avarost Civilization (the ruins located near Elysia, apparently). I use the name of the civilization to refer to the city as well. I'm usually a sucker for lore, but I'll try not to be too heavy-handed with this fic (it's still going to be primarily Sormik, after all!)
> 
> Please do let me know what you think! Let's all be fake-history nerds together~

A huge celebration was underway in the city of Avarost. The streets were packed with humans and seraphim, and the air was filled with jubilant cheers.

“A Shepherd has been chosen!” they cried. “Long live the Shepherd!”

Mikleo weaved through the crowd, clutching the books in his arms tightly to his chest. As important as the ascension festival was, it did not excuse him from his work at the library. As a record keeper, Mikleo was tasked with preserving the history of Avarost and its predecessors. Very few seraphs were chosen for such an honourable position, and he took pride in it, even if it meant dedicating himself to his job for the rest of his long life.

But as he walked, he heard hushed rumours passing between the people clustered around him.

“Is it true that the Shepherd is only sixteen years old?”

“Such a young age to be tasked with such a heavy burden.”

“No doubt he will die young, just as the ones before him. Human lives are so terribly short.”

Mikleo could not help but agree. He had lived amidst seraphim for centuries, and had never come into contact with a Shepherd. To his relief, not many seraphs ever did - he could not imagine what the Lords who served the Shepherds went through, having to watch their human companions age and die so much sooner than themselves.

_‘It must be such a lonely existence,’_ he thought. _‘If I had to go through that...no, it would be impossible.’_

After pushing his way past more crowds, he finally arrived at a large, ornate building. The library was easily one of the most important buildings in Avarost, second only to the palace itself. He unlocked the doors and stepped inside, depositing the books on top of the nearest bookshelf.

The lamps high above him were lit, but the building was devoid of any other people. Mikleo grimaced; he was usually the first to arrive and the last to leave, but he was sure that his peers would be shirking their responsibilities today. Not everyone took their jobs as seriously as he did, and the Shepherd’s ascension was a great excuse to skip work and enjoy the festivities instead.

With a sigh, he began to shelve the books he had brought along with him. It was a massive building with several sections, and having to do it alone meant that he would be walking through the halls for a while. No doubt more books would show up over the course of the day. The library had recently begun to accept human contributions as well, and since then their collection had been growing steadily.

_‘As young as their civilization is, humans really like to write,'_ he wondered. _'Their world views are so different from ours...probably because their lives are so much shorter. It’s fascinating.’_

When he was finally done, he retrieved his personal record book from the archives and seated himself at a table. Mikleo had read several tomes over the years - written by humans and seraphim alike - and reading about their adventures, their _lives_ , had since filled him with a desire to record everything that he had learned

In reality, record keepers were considered glorified librarians - their jobs were to shelve books written by others, and to offer guidance to young scholars. Mikleo longed to write about the world and its inhabitants, but as a record keeper, he could not leave Avarost. He would only ever experience what the world had to offer through the tales of others.

For now, though, it was good enough for him.

* * *

He did not know how much time had passed before he heard the slow creak of the main door echo throughout the halls. It was uncommon for someone to try to be so careful on their way in, and Mikleo wondered briefly if they were trying to sneak in for some illicit purpose. He closed the book in front of him and stood up, walking towards the entryway.

“Can I help you?” he called out, and the person squeezing through the doors froze in response. Mikleo raised an eyebrow as the person stepped inside, carefully closing the door behind him.

“I didn’t think anyone would be here,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. Mikleo quickly noted that he was a human, dressed in a casual blue shirt and well worn travel pants - unusual during such a large festival. He had spiky brown hair with...feathers in it? No, they were earrings. Still odd, though.

As if he had suddenly remembered something, the human’s eyes lit up. “Is anyone else here?” he asked, and when Mikleo shook his head, he heaved a sigh of relief.

“This may seem strange,” he began hestitantly, “but would it be alright if I stayed here for a while?” He yawned briefly, then clapped a hand over his mouth. “I guess I might need a nap, too.”

The seraph crossed his arms over his chest. “This isn’t an inn,” he said simply. “There’s one across the street if you need to rest.” He did not want to invite any trouble, and this human seemed incredibly suspicious.

“Uh, it isn’t really _rest_ that I need...” The human ran a hand through his hair. “More like...a place to hide?”

Mikleo’s jaw dropped. _‘An outlaw?!’_

He clearly saw through Mikleo’s expression because he began to shake his head frantically. “No, no, I didn’t mean it like that! I just—” He groaned, running his palm down his face. “I need to stay somewhere quiet for a few hours. Just trust me, please? I swear I won’t do any harm.”

He looked desperate, and Mikleo could not find it in his heart to refuse. Besides, no one else was around anyway, and the human seemed old enough to take care of himself. “Alright,” he relented. “If you want to stay out of sight, the world history section is in the East Wing, down this hallway and to the right.”

The response was immediate - his eyes brightened and he stepped forward, taking Mikleo’s hand in his and shaking it firmly.

“Thank you, thank you _so much_ , you won’t regret this—”

“—don’t cause me any trouble. Please.”

“I won’t.” And the way his eyes sparkled with sincerity when he said those two words took Mikleo by surprise. It had been a long time since he had last seen such a genuine expression on anyone, human _or_ seraph.

_‘This human has clearly not seen much of the world. Once he engages himself in politics and wars and whatever else it is that humans busy themselves with, he will change.’_

They walked deeper into the library and Mikleo returned to his table. “Let me know if you need anything,” he said offhandedly.

“Sure, uh...what was your name again?”

He hesitated for a moment, but decided that there was no harm in being honest. “Mikleo.”

“Mikleo,” the human repeated. “Mikleo. Are you a water seraph?”

_‘What a strange question to ask someone when you first meet them. He has no social skills whatsoever.’_

“Yes.”

“That’s amazing.” The human looked excited again. “I’ve always had a fear of water. Being able to command it...that must be...”

_‘Powerful? Exhilarating? Terrifying?’_ Mikleo had always wondered what words a human would use to describe the seraphic artes—

“Beautiful.”

Mikleo’s mind stopped short. Of all possible responses, he had not been expecting that. “B-beautiful?” he stammered, unable to contain the blush that inexplicably rose to his cheeks.

Without missing a beat, the human nodded. “Yup! I saw all these lakes and waterfalls on my way here, and they were all so peaceful. It must take a lot of calm and concentration to control an element like that .” He shrugged lightly. “At least, I don’t think _I_ could do it.”

Unable to resist, Mikleo let out a short laugh. “Well, it isn’t easy. We seraphim spend many years trying to master our respective elements.” Then, his expression softened and he lowered his gaze. “My skills are mostly self-taught, though. Not all of us can afford formal training. But...I suppose, with dedication, anyone could do it.”

He heard a sharp intake of breath, and when he looked up again, the human was still watching him. There appeared to be tears in his eyes...or was that just a trick of the light?

“Thank you, Mikleo,” he said softly. “Hearing that...it makes me want to work harder, too.”

Not knowing how to reply to such heartfelt words, Mikleo simply nodded. This seemed to be good enough for the human, who smiled in response. They stood there in amicable silence for a few moments, until the human cleared his throat abruptly.

“Well,” he said, “I guess I’ll head over to the East Wing. It was nice speaking with you, Mikleo.”

Mikleo watched him walk away, and the sudden urge to say _something_ bubbled up within him.

_‘I shouldn’t develop any kind of attachment to humans, but...I guess it’s only polite...’_

“What...is your name?” he called out quickly. The human paused and glanced over his shoulder.

“It’s Sorey,” he said with a smile. “Thanks again, for letting me stay.”

Then, he walked through the hallway and out of sight.

“Sorey,” Mikleo repeated softly. The name sounded familiar. He could have sworn he had heard it somewhere. Maybe when he was younger? Or perhaps it was a few days ago, when the Council of Elders had finally announced the name of—

His eyes grew wide.

“The Shepherd.”


	2. Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mikleo is a huge nerd and asks the Shepherd a ton of questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay Chapter 2? This might end up being longer than I'd anticipated.....

A wave of emotions ran through Mikleo at an alarming rate. Shock, confusion, fear. He had spent so long trying to avoid the Shepherd, and yet here he was, in the flesh and surprisingly approachable. It made absolutely no sense.

_‘Why did he decide to come here? What about the ceremony? Is it over? Does anyone realize that the Shepherd is gone? If they find him here, will they blame me?!’_

But despite his conflict, a large part of him was also curious. Mikleo wanted _answers_. And since the Shepherd was here, he supposed there was no point dancing around the issue, even if it meant breaking the oath he had made to himself.

“He’s going to be here a while anyway,” he sighed, standing up and tucking his record book under his arm. “I guess I’ll go bother him while I can.”

* * *

He found the Shepherd, Sorey, tucked away in a small corner of the East Wing. He was seated on the floor, surrounded by a stack of novels. It was an interesting sight, considering the fact that there were several tables in the room that he could have used instead.

He appeared to be thoroughly engrossed in the book he was currently reading, and Mikleo was hesitant to disturb him. But it seemed as though Sorey had already heard him approaching, because he glanced up and smiled.

“Give me a second,” he said, before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a small, orange feather. He tucked it between the pages that he had been reading and closed the book, gently placing it on the ground and getting to his feet.

Mikleo opened his mouth, then closed it again. There were too many questions he wanted to ask. “You...those feathers...” he finally managed to say while hesitantly raising a hand and pointing to the Shepherd’s hair.

_‘Of all the things I had to say...’_

“Oh, these?” Sorey absently tugged at one of his earrings. “They were a gift from my family. The feathers come from the golden peacocks near my village. They’re really rare, so I just hold on to the ones that I find.”

It was a simple, straightforward answer, but somehow it made Mikleo want to know more. “Your village...where is it?”

Sorey tapped his chin in thought. “Hmm...West of here, I think. It took me a few weeks to get to this city on foot - my shoes were completely destroyed,” he admitted with a laugh. “But after I spoke to the Council of Elders, they had them repaired.”

He stuck his foot out childishly for Mikleo to take a look. “See? Good as new!”

Mikleo frowned. _‘He avoided the question for the most part. Is he just that easygoing? Or is there something else...?’_

Finally, he decided not to press the issue any further. “How did you know that this building was a library?” he asked instead. “What made you come here?”

“Lailah told me it would be a good place to visit.”

_‘Lailah?!’_ “How...how do you know Lailah?”

“Oh, she’s the one I made a pact with.”

Mikleo’s heart sank. It hurt knowing that Lailah had forged _yet another_ pact with a Shepherd, despite everything that she had been through. He had often spoken to her about her role as a Prime Lord, and she had shared many stories with him - tales filled with excitement, danger, and at the very end of each, loss.

_“It is...difficult, especially the first time,” she admitted. “Seraphim live for so long...to travel with a human and get to know them well, and then gradually watch them age and die of natural causes...it almost made me want to give up.”_

_“Why didn’t you?” he asked. It made no sense that she would continue to bear such a heavy burden if she had the freedom to stop._

_But Lailah simply smiled. “Because, I wanted to learn more,” she replied. “I wanted to understand humans, to see what they live for. Living for so many centuries, we seraphim lose sight of our dreams. But humans know that their lives are short, and it leads them to accomplish so much more than we could ever hope to.”_

The hardest part, Mikleo had come to understand, was the bond forged between her and the humans she traveled with. It was impossible _not_ to get attached, she had often claimed, and he had tried to chalk it up to Lailah’s compassionate nature. But seeing and speaking with the human standing before him, it finally made sense. It was clear that Lailah had already grown fond of him, and it was obvious why - Sorey was a friendly and likeable person, and even Mikleo was drawn in by his outgoing personality.

_‘Another human to get attached to...another person who will eventually leave her behind.’_ He clenched his fists. _‘I wish I could have been there to stop her.’_

“Um...Mikleo? Are you okay?”

“Huh?” He snapped out of his thoughts and looked up to see Sorey watching him with a concerned expression on his face. The Shepherd’s hand was on his shoulder in what was probably meant to be a comforting gesture, but it did nothing to ease his mind, and he quickly pushed it away.

“I’m fine,” he clarified, not wanting Sorey to misunderstand his actions. “I was just...lost in thought.”

Sorey placed his hands on his hips, clearly unconvinced. “Well, if you’re sure...” He paused for a moment. Then: “Can I ask _you_ a question now?”

Mikleo looked at him suspiciously. “Uh, sure,” he replied.

“Have you ever left this city?”

The question took Mikleo by surprise, and he stood up straighter. _‘C-can he tell? That I’ve never been outside the front gates? Am I that easy to read?’_

“...no,” he finally admitted. “Why...would you ask that?”

“No reason, really.” Sorey grinned. “Also, Lailah told me that you were a bit of a shut-in.”

_‘Lailah...’_ Mikleo hid his face in his hands, embarrassed. _‘I spend so much time worrying about you, and you go and sell me out to every human you make a pact with!’_

“I wanted to know why.”

Mikleo lowered his hands slightly and peered at the Shepherd through the gaps in his fingers. “Why what?” he asked hesitantly.

“Why you haven’t ever thought about leaving. I’m sure you’ve read all these books, and from all your questions before, it seemed like you were really interested in learning more about the world.” Sorey tilted his head in a questioning look. “So why haven’t you done it yet?”

“I...” There were so many things he could reply with. His responsibilities as a record keeper, his avoidance of humans, his fear of the unknown...but somehow, they all sounded like excuses in his head. None of them felt _right_.

When Mikleo said nothing more, Sorey gave him an understanding smile. “You don’t have to tell me right away,” he offered sincerely. “It’s hard to come up with an answer, huh? I know how that can be.”

“Thank you,” Mikleo said with a soft smile of his own. “It...must have been difficult speaking to the Council when you first arrived here,” he added, a touch of sympathy in his voice. “I’ve watched them interrogate humans over the years. Their techniques can be...intimidating.”

The Shepherd let out an embarrassed laugh. “Yeah, it wasn’t easy! But—”

Just then, they heard the sound of someone else entering the library. The sound of rapid footsteps echoed through the hall behind them. “Shepherd Sorey!” a voice called out. “Are you here?”

They both flinched. “Looks like they found me,” Sorey sighed, placing his arms behind his head. “That lunch break was shorter than I thought it would be.”

He walked back to the pile of books and picked up the one he had been reading. “Would it be alright if I borrowed this?” he asked. “I think it’s some kind of journal written by a previous Shepherd, and it’s really interesting...”

Mikleo shrugged. “How could I refuse a request from the _great Shepherd_ himself?” he said, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. They shared a laugh, and when they heard the footsteps drawing closer, Sorey tucked the book under his arm.

“I’ll bring this back as soon as I’m done,” he said with a wave of his free hand. Mikleo waved back, expecting him to head towards the Central Hall and make himself known to the people who were searching for him.

He did _not_ expect Sorey to instead bolt towards the nearest window and heave himself up onto the ledge. Mikleo could only watch in horror as he unbolted it and jumped out into the streets in one swift motion. When he saw a flash of blue dash into the crowd, he heaved a sigh of relief.

“Record keeper.”

Mikleo turned around to face a pair of highly ranked seraphim. They wore long, white robes over their clothes, held together by a gold pin bearing the sigil of Avarost.

“Have you seen the Shepherd?” one of them asked, her head held high. There was a haughty expression on her face, and she did not appear to want to stay in the library much longer.

Mikleo was only too happy to oblige. “Who can say?” he replied with a shrug. “This is a public library, after all. We have many patrons.”

Her eyes narrowed at this, and she stared at him intently. Mikleo stared right back, refusing to budge, until the other seraph placed his hand on her shoulder, indicating that they should leave.

With an affirmative grunt, she tore her eyes away from Mikleo’s. “Very well. We will look elsewhere,” she declared, turning away from him. “But know this, young record keeper. If he is not found by sunset, there will be consequences for all of us.”

_‘That’s fine,’_ Mikleo thought to himself as they walked away. _‘Because he will be back at the palace before you even get there.’_ He had barely known Sorey for a few hours, but he already trusted in the young Shepherd. There was something truly genuine about him, and somehow Mikleo just _knew_ that he would return to the palace and take responsibility for his actions. The Council could not have chosen a more fitting person to be the Shepherd.

His gaze drifted to the ground, tracing the dark shadows that ran across the floor. A part of him considered returning to his record book so he could write down what little he had learned from speaking with the Shepherd...but his feet refused to budge. 

_I’ll bring this back as soon as I’m done..._ Sorey’s words still echoed within his mind, and the library suddenly felt darker and lonelier than ever. He let out a long breath.

_‘I can only hope that he also keeps his promises.’_


	3. Interest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorey confronts the Council of Elders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for beta-ing this chapter [Aru](https://twitter.com/Aruchama)!! It ended up being much longer than I'd anticipated...

“We are disappointed in you, Shepherd Sorey. You have only just been chosen to be Shepherd, and already you neglect your duties.”

Sorey bowed low before the Council of Elders. “I apologize for my actions, great Elders,” he said sincerely. “I should not have left so suddenly in the middle of the ceremony. Forgive me.”

“Hmph. For your impertinence, we should revoke your title right here and now.”

Sorey heart skipped a beat. He swallowed. “I-I can explain—”

“Great Elders, please wait!”

The seraphim turned their attention to the woman who had just walked into the room. Her long, white hair trailed behind her, and her aquamarine eyes were focused on the four hooded figures seated upon their high thrones. The candles in the room flickered slightly as she took her place beside Sorey in the center of the room.

“This is a private audience with the Shepherd, Lailah,” one of them sneered at her. “Why do you interfere?”

“With all due respect, Lord Amenoch, as the Shepherd’s Prime Lord it is my duty to be here beside him.”

“Do you plan to take responsibility for his actions, then?” Another voice asked, this time a woman’s.

Lailah shook her head. “I am simply here to explain the situation. The Shepherd wanted to learn more about his role, and I recommended that he visit the library.”

“The library?” The woman raised an eyebrow. “So soon? I am certain you could have provided Shepherd Sorey with all the information that he needed.”

“I hoped that he could go straight to the source, Lord Eumacia. I have been a Prime Lord to many Shepherds; surely my knowledge is biased.”

“Hah!” A third voice scoffed. “Even if this is true, how can we know that the Shepherd was not simply avoiding his responsibilities? How can we be sure that he even _went_ to the library?”

“I-I did!” Sorey cut in, pulling the book he had borrowed out from the ceremonial cloak he had donned right before meeting with the Council. He presented it before them, and they all leaned forward in their seats.

“A prior Shepherd’s journal...hmm, I see.” Amenoch placed a hand under his chin. “Who allowed you to borrow this?”

“Uh, a record keeper I met while I was there...”

“Give us their name.” It was an order, not a question, and Sorey’s mind went blank. He was suddenly worried for Mikleo’s safety.

“I...I don’t remember,” he lied, and the Elders collectively gave him a strange look in response. He took a step back, shrinking under their gazes. Then, Lailah stepped in.

“The Shepherd was only doing research for the sake of his duty, and this is proof,” she declared. “He has already apologized for his delay. Should this not be enough for you?”

A series of murmurs went about the room. Finally, Eumacia stood, her cloak billowing about her form. “Very well. The Council accepts your reasoning. For now, you are dismissed.”

Lailah and Sorey bowed in unison, then turned to leave the chamber. Before Sorey could move any further, however, Eumacia spoke again.

“Your Prime Lord can only protect you for so long, Shepherd Sorey,” she said, a trace of mocking in her tone. “You had best learn to speak for yourself.”

Sorey gulped and nodded shakily before walking out of the room.

* * *

The Shepherd’s chamber was as large as it was isolating. Sorey lay back on his bed and stared up at the delicate gold embroidery on the curtains above him. They enveloped the top of the frame like a canvas and fell down on all four sides as if to wrap him in a silky embrace. It was a bed fit for a king...and yet, all he could think about was the fact that it was too lonely, too... _dark_.

After a few moments, he frowned and pushed himself out of the bed, pulling back the curtains and making his way over to the small study that had been placed in the corner of the room. The way everything was arranged...it was almost as if the Council had been trying to say, “Shepherds need to spend more time ending wars and less time reading books.”

He looked at the journal he had placed upon the desk earlier and lightly ran his fingers over the cover. It appeared to be quite old, yet it was in excellent condition. It was no wonder that Avarost’s library was revered all over the world—he could still hardly believe that he had gotten to visit it.

There was a faint knock on the door, and Sorey looked up to see Lailah walk in. The red in her dress caught the candlelight well, only emphasizing her power as a seraph of fire. She smiled at him kindly.

“How was your first day as Shepherd, Sorey-san?” she asked, using the human honorific to address him. It still took him by surprise every time...to think that a seraph from Avarost knew how honorifics worked only proved how much Lailah had learned about humans over the centuries.

Sorey sighed. “It was...eventful,” he replied, letting go of the book and sitting down in the nearest chair. “I shouldn’t have left. The Council even threatened to revoke my title.”

“It was an empty threat,” Lailah insisted, seating herself at the edge of his bed. “The Council needs you as much as you need the power of the Shepherd.”

“I know that, but—” He placed a hand over his heart. “I had to _beg_ for this power. It still scares me...that they could throw me away without a second thought.”

Lailah hummed in response. “It is true that any human could become the Shepherd. However, not all humans possess the purity of heart and the determination that you do, Sorey-san.” She smiled at him again. “You really are more important than you think.”

He returned her smile. “Thanks, Lailah. For being there with me. I...couldn’t have done that on my own.”

“And? What about my friend at the library?” she asked teasingly. “Were you able to meet him?”

His eyes grew wide. “Mikleo...I can’t believe I lied to the Council about not knowing his name,” he groaned, placing his head in his hands. “I’m sure they saw right through me.”

“It was probably for the best,” she offered. “Mikleo and the Council of Elders are on...difficult terms. If they had found out it was _him_ who lent you the book...it could have caused him problems.”

“Difficult terms?” Sorey raised an eyebrow. “He _did_ say they were hard to deal with, but he never mentioned speaking with them directly...”

Lailah bit her lip. “He has...dealt with them a lot in the past. The council keeps him under their thumb. He has been told never to interact with humans, and was given the role of ‘record keeper’ to bind him to this city forever.”

“That’s why he can never leave the city?” Sorey’s shoulders slumped; the mere thought of Mikleo...of _anyone_ being forced into a life of isolation saddened him terribly.

“Yes. His orders will never allow him to pursue his dream.”

That caught his attention. Sorey leaned forward, curious. “Mikleo has a dream? What is it?”

The seraph noticed the sudden enthusiasm in his tone. She looked up at him and smiled enigmatically. “Why don’t you ask him when you next meet, Sorey-san?” she countered. “After all, you _do_ have to return that book eventually!”

He picked up the book and turned it around in his hands, feeling the weight of his predecessors’ memories weighing down upon his shoulders. “I do...” he whispered vacantly. Then, he smiled. “I wonder if Mikleo has read this book yet.”

Lailah’s smile grew wider. “I’m sure he has!” she said, clapping her hands together. “The two of you love to read - I’m sure you both will have a lot to talk about when you see him again!”

“Yeah, I hope so...” Sorey let out a laugh. “All he did was ask me question after question today. I felt like I was being put on the spot!”

Lailah laughed as well. “Mikleo tries to make it seem as though he isn’t interested in humans, but...” She smiled fondly. “He’s always been curious about the world outside Avarost. In the end, I’m sure that curiosity won out over his fear.”

“...fear?”

She placed a hand over her mouth. “Oops! I’ve been rambling on and on, and now I’ve said too much!” she exclaimed with an embarrassed laugh. “I should leave something for you to find out on your own,” she added with a wink.

“But I...okay...” he relented with a tired sigh, leaning back in his chair. All of the exhaustion from the day gone by was finally starting to catch up to him.

“I’ll admit, Mikleo was...intimidating at first,” he whispered as his eyelids drifted shut. “But...I’m sure he’ll tell me about his dreams...and his fear, someday...”

Lailah remained silent, lost in thought. When she finally decided to stand up and excuse herself, she found that Sorey had fallen asleep in his chair, clutching the book close to his chest. Something akin to motherly affection washed over her as she watched the young Shepherd’s chest rise and fall with even breaths. It was a familiar, yet bittersweet feeling she had experienced countless times before.

She closed her eyes and clasped her hands together.

_‘Just the fact that you were able to talk to him, Sorey-san...that much is more than enough.’_

* * *

Three days later, Sorey found himself standing in front of the library yet again. Although he had been exhausted while talking to Lailah after his meeting with the Council, he had not forgotten a single word she had told him about Mikleo. Between reading his predecessor’s journal and meeting with many influential members of Avarost’s society, he had found himself thinking about Mikleo’s circumstances...why was he so lonely? What did he truly want? And most importantly: what was he so afraid of?

 _‘Is he afraid of me too?’_ he had wondered several times. _‘He pushed me away that one time, and he always kept his distance...was he afraid that I would hurt him somehow?’_

He hesitated, then took a deep breath. “You’re just returning a book, Sorey,” he told himself out loud. “This isn’t a big deal. Relax.”

Then, he opened the large doors and stepped inside.

The first thing that he noticed was that the library was much livelier than it had been three days ago. Seraphim were everywhere: shelving books, sweeping the vast marble floors, even attending to other patrons like him who walked through the door, human and seraph alike. Compared to the gloomy, imposing interior from last time, this atmosphere was warm and welcoming, and he found himself drawn in further.

“What do you want, human?” A voice deadpanned from seemingly out of nowhere, and Sorey flinched reflexively. He looked around for the source of the voice and found nothing, until a boot kicked him in the shin, causing him to cry out in pain. Clutching his leg, he turned to his left to see a small, blonde-haired seraph standing beside him, nonchalantly twirling an umbrella in her hands.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to yell in a library?” she asked flatly, looking up at him with a bored expression on her face. Sorey’s face grew pale, and he snapped his mouth shut. He had already managed to offend someone within mere _seconds_ of setting foot in the building...and the way she was eyeing him dangerously did nothing for his confidence.

She began to pace around him, sizing him up. He instinctively stood up straighter, following her with his eyes and gradually taking in her appearance.

_‘She’s so short, and her outfit is girly, but...what’s with those shoes? Aren’t they way too big for her feet—’_

Almost as if she’d heard him, she scowled and whacked him with her umbrella. “Do I have to ask twice? Why are you here?” she snapped, pulling Sorey out of whatever stupor he had been in.

“I’m looking for Mikleo,” he blurted out without hesitation, then slapped himself internally. _‘I didn’t have to say that! I’m just here to return a book...I could give it to anyone!!’_

The seraph tapped a finger against her mouth. “Hm. Meebo, huh? I didn’t know he had _human_ friends.” Her face suddenly twisted into an expression that looked absolutely _devious_ , and Sorey briefly wondered if he had made a mistake by telling her the truth.

_‘Is this what record keepers are really like?!’_

“Hah! Stupid human. I’m no record keeper,” she said with no trace of mirth in her tone, and Sorey vaguely realized that he had said his previous words out loud. “I’m just here to make sure this ancient place doesn’t fall apart.”

He wanted to slap himself again—clearly he wasn’t making a very good first impression. But before he could apologize or correct himself in any way, she turned her back to him and opened her umbrella.

“Hm. Meebo, Meebo. I’ll go find him for you, so you just wait right here. Don’t move, and _don’t_ get lost.”

Sorey wanted to warn her about the dangers of opening umbrellas indoors, but he figured that his human superstitions would simply fall on deaf ears, so he kept his mouth shut and his feet planted firmly in place as he watched her walk away.

Within minutes, however, he found himself fidgeting. Sorey had never been the patient type. _‘Don’t move, don’t move...’_ he told himself again and again, while frantically tapping his foot against the marble floor. The seraphim around began to murmur amongst themselves quietly, but when he glanced in their direction they simply turned away, pretending not to notice. He crossed his arms and let out a sigh.

 _‘How long am I supposed to wait here?’_ Then, he frowned. _‘Wait, can I even trust her? What if she’s just messing with me? What if—’_

His thoughts were interrupted when he saw her approaching, tugging a familiar seraph along by the arm. For some strange reason, Sorey suddenly felt his face growing warm, but he pushed the feeling away quickly, chalking it up to anticipation.

Mikleo looked much the same as he had the last time they had met—his short, ivory hair framed his face, and his clothes, white and royal blue, gave him a formal, almost regal appearance. There was one marked difference though, Sorey noticed: a pair of glasses sat on the bridge of his nose, his violet eyes partially hidden behind the frames.

He came to a halt when he saw Sorey standing in the entryway and gave the blonde seraph beside him a questioning look. Sorey watched as the two of them had some kind of non-verbal conversation, mostly consisting of wide gestures and several jabs from the smaller seraph’s umbrella. Eventually, Mikleo approached him alone, holding his side painfully.

“Shepherd Sorey...welcome back,” he said quietly, averting his gaze. “What brings you to the library today?”

His personality was also completely different. Gone was the inquisitive, amiable Mikleo from three days ago; this Mikleo was formal, hesitant, and seemingly unwilling to associate with him for longer than was necessary. Sorey found his heart sinking.

“Y-you don’t have to be so formal, Mikleo!” he said cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood. “I finished reading the book I’d borrowed, so I came to give it back!”

“I...I see,” came the reply. “Surely you had attendants at the palace who could have returned it on your behalf?”

His dismissive attitude caught Sorey off-guard. “I wanted to do it myself!” he insisted, placing a hand on his chest. “And...I also wanted to apologize for the other day,” he added, running his other hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble with those guards...I’m sorry.”

Those words seemed to break through Mikleo’s reserved exterior; his eyes grew wide and he placed his hands out in front of him. “T-there is nothing to apologize for, Shepherd Sorey,” he stammered. “They had no business with me, and they left as soon as they saw you weren’t here.”

“Oh! That’s a _huge_ relief!” Sorey exclaimed, placing his hands on his hips. “I was afraid they’d locked you up because of me!”

The seraph crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Why would they need to lock me up...?”

“I dunno, it seemed like something they would do...”

Mikleo scoffed. “The Council has better things to do than deal with me. I’m just a record keeper, after all.”

“ _Just_ a record keeper? You’re selling yourself short, Mikleo!” Sorey spread his arms out wide. “Look at all these books! You take such good care of them, and you lend them out to people like me who don’t know a thing about the world!”

“It’s...really not a big deal—”

“Aah! I almost forgot!”

Sorey dug around in his cloak and finally pulled out the journal he had borrowed, offering it to Mikleo. “Do...do you have any others like this?” he asked, suddenly embarrassed. “Shepherd Ira’s story was so interesting! It really made me feel like I could do great things, too.”

His honesty seemed to take Mikleo by surprise, but if so he hid it quickly. “There are several Shepherds’ journals in the world history section you visited previously,” he said, and readjusted his glasses. “I particularly enjoyed the journeys of Shepherd Enzo and his stories about the Great Tower of—”

“Oh just _take_ him there, Meebo, and spare us the details.”

An open umbrella forced its way between the two of them, cutting Mikleo off. “Edna!” he hissed. “ _Please_ don’t swing your umbrella around in here! These books are centuries old!”

Edna smirked. “Centuries are _nothing_ to you and me, Grumpleo. This brat here, though—” She snapped her head in the Shepherd’s direction, and he took a step back in self-defense.

“What was your name again?” she asked disinterestedly. “Sorey? You’ve got a lot to learn—about being a Shepherd, about the world, about _everything._ ”

“I-I’ll show you the journals, Shepherd Sorey,” Mikleo interrupted stiffly. “This way.”

He walked away, and Sorey began to follow him only to be stopped by Edna’s umbrella blocking his path.

“I don’t know how much Lailah has told you about our Meebo,” she began, “but he’s not an easy one to get through to. He was raised differently, after all.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“So she _didn’t_ tell you,” she inferred, fixing Sorey with a piercing stare. After a few moments, however, she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Just go already. Look, he’s waiting for you.”

Sorey looked up and saw Mikleo in the distance, leaning against a wall. “Ack! I’m sorry!” he cried, dashing forward to meet up with the other seraph. Edna watched as he caught up to Mikleo and doubled over, breathing heavily. The two of them had a brief exchange which she could not hear, but she saw a hint of a genuine smile grace the record keeper’s face, and her heart melted at the sight.

“Sorey, huh?” she said to no one in particular. “Maybe _you’ll_ be the one to teach Meebo what it means to be his own person.”

She continued to watch as the two of them walked deeper into the library and out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized while I was writing this chapter that I hadn't found an excuse to describe Mikleo up until now...I hope I managed to fix that OTL


	4. Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sorey and Mikleo are both huge nerds together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was pretty tricky to write because it's basically x words of Sormik idle conversation. I tried really hard not to be a massive nerd.....I tried......and then I gave up :^)
> 
> Thanks again aru for helping me with this chapter! DESPITE THE ODDS WE FINALLY DID IT
> 
> And also thanks jordon for sending me dir en grey songs when I had writer's block ;_; they really helped me focus!!

Sorey followed Mikleo deeper into the library, marveling at the books around them. The last time he was here he had been in a hurry, but now he was able to fully appreciate the shelves stretching from floor to ceiling, laden with books from all over the continent. The inside was _enormous_ —large windows flooded the building with light, and the central area boasted a massive dome covered in intricate carvings. He distantly wondered how the seraphim had been able to build such extravagant structures, and for a while his gaze remained so firmly trained on the ceiling that he almost bumped into a few chairs as he walked.

Mikleo couldn’t help but be amused. This Shepherd had a good heart, but he was also unbelievably clumsy. He wondered if all of the other Shepherds he had read about in the journals had also possessed such... _child-like_ qualities. The stories had made them seem like flawless legends, but even though the journals were written from their perspectives, they didn’t give away their personalities—Lailah had always advised her Shepherds to remain impartial in their records to avoid societal pressure. Mikleo didn’t know much about humans in the first place, but at this point, he felt as though he was learning enough from Sorey to last him a few human lifetimes.

They walked through the world history section and into a secluded corner, blocked off by shelves on all sides but one. Sunlight flooded into the area through a single window, and with no one else around, the East Wing almost felt like hallowed ground.

“This is the journal section,” Mikleo said, turning to face Sorey. “Most Shepherds donated their chronicles to the library during their lifetimes, so you should have a lot to go through. You're welcome to borrow whatever you’d like.”

Sorey nodded, grateful. He approached one of the shelves and began to browse, expecting Mikleo to leave now that his duty was done.

To his surprise, however, Mikleo simply leaned back against one of the shelves and crossed his arms. Sorey tried his best to focus on looking for a journal he wanted to read, but for some strange reason, his eyes kept darting towards the seraph on his left. His presence was _distracting_. It also didn't help that the journals had nothing written on their spines, so he couldn't really tell one from the other. Sorey found himself growing increasingly flustered.

“Aren't you going to leave?” he blurted out, looking directly at Mikleo. “I-I mean, it's not like I _want_ you to!” he added quickly, ignoring the heat that rushed to his face. “But aren't there other people you could be helping instead?”

Mikleo shrugged. “The other record keepers can handle that. And besides—” He looked directly at Sorey, his expression unreadable. “I still have questions I want to ask you.”

The Shepherd let out an embarrassed laugh. “You've always got so many questions! It's like you've never seen a human before!”

At that, Mikleo blanched. “I...haven’t,” he admitted quietly. “I’ve watched them walk around and helped them navigate the library, but...you’re the first human I’ve ever spoken to this much.”

The response took Sorey by surprise. “Then...why me?” he couldn’t help but ask. “Is it because I’m the Shepherd?”

“Yes...and no.”

Mikleo looked even more embarrassed now. He averted his gaze and clumsily adjusted his glasses with one hand. Sorey found the gesture almost endearing—he briefly wondered why Mikleo wore glasses in the first place, but his train of thought was interrupted when the record keeper suddenly spoke again.

“Did...did you want a recommendation?” he asked. “You seemed confused while you were looking at them. Maybe I could help?”

Sorey placed a hand behind his head. “Ah, you caught me!” he said with a short laugh. “I couldn’t tell how they were organized—are they alphabetical? I was hoping you’d have the journal of Shepherd Michael.”

Mikleo gave him a sad smile. “I apologize. Our collection is vast, but Shepherd Michael’s journals were lost many centuries ago. I wish I could have read them myself.”

“Oh, that’s a shame…” Sorey let out a soft sigh. “I was hoping I could learn more about the civilization he came from...the Civilization of Shepherds.”

The record keeper gave him a strange look. “How do you know about that?” he asked, sounding almost defensive. “That information can only be found in the Earthen Historia! You’ve only _just_ been made Shepherd—surely the Council didn’t already give you access to something so valuable?”

“...valuable?” Sorey scratched his head. “Gramps told me stories about the home of the Shepherds when I was a kid! I-I never realized...”

At this, Mikleo raised an eyebrow. “Your grandfather knew about the Age of Shepherds,” he began, presumably still trying to collect his thoughts. “Who exactly _is_ he?”

“Uh...his name is Zenrus,” Sorey offered, still a little confused. “He’s a seraph of lightning, and the head of our village.” He gave Mikleo an apologetic grin. “That’s it, really. I’m sorry if it doesn’t help much. We all just call him Gramps because he raised us.”

_Zenrus._ The name sounded familiar to Mikleo—he would have to look it up later. More importantly, however: “You were raised by a seraph?”

Sorey’s smile grew brighter. “Yeah! I grew up surrounded by humans _and_ seraphim...I guess that’s pretty weird, huh?”

Mikleo bit his lip. “It is...unusual,” he admitted.

Sorey nodded. “Gramps told me not to tell anyone outside of the Council. He said people would judge.” He gave Mikleo a reassuring smile. “I trust you, though!”

Embarrassed, Mikleo adjusted his glasses again while looking at his feet. “I-I appreciate that...”

This simple, naive human, raised in a society so far removed from the rest of the world...most seraphim would have been disgusted, but Mikleo was fascinated. He wanted to know more about how Sorey grew up, the kinds of friends he had, the stories he had been told—

An image of the two of them visiting Sorey’s village, of him meeting Sorey’s family, suddenly entered Mikleo’s mind, and his eyes grew wide. He pushed the thought away quickly before it could develop any further.

_‘I’ve never had a single thought about leaving Avarost before...why now?!’’_

He refused to look the Shepherd in the eye. “A-anyway, I can recommend something else instead,” he deflected, pointing at one of the shelves to divert Sorey’s attention. “Like I said earlier, I found Shepherd Enzo’s journey inspiring. His efforts led to the construction of the Great Tower of Loghrin.”

“Oh, wow!” Sorey exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. “I always wished I could visit the tower...or the ruins, at least. I wonder how many years it lasted before collapsing? It must’ve been a few centuries at _least_...”

It was easy for Mikleo to bring the conversation back to the journals, having read so many of them during his lifetime. And, to his surprise, Sorey matched his enthusiasm, asking questions similar to the ones he had asked himself several years ago.

“What material was the tower built from for it to collapse so suddenly?” Sorey wondered out loud as they walked over to a table, each carrying a small pile of journals.

“Probably ordinary rock, the kind that seraphim could handle, anyway,” Mikleo offered as he set his pile down. “It appears that Shepherd Enzo was acquainted with several earth seraphim. They must have built it together.”

“But _why_?” Sorey flipped through a few pages, and Mikleo noted how careful he was while handling the book. “Why would earth seraphim need a tower?”

“Judging by the area surrounding it, as well as the height of the foundation, it might have been to protect them from a flood. It was a group effort. ”

“Hmm...I guess the only way to know for sure would be to look for signs of erosion on the ruins.” Sorey frowned. “But if the collapse happened later...could it have been during a war?”

Mikleo shrugged. “Wars weren’t uncommon before the Temperance of Avarost. It’s a possibility.”

“Could there have been a human civilization advanced enough to build a weapon that could destroy something _that_ big?”

“Not possible,” Mikleo replied without missing a beat. “I’ve read records of human society from that time period, and not one of them mentioned a weapon of that scale.” Despite himself, he grinned. “You humans tend to show off when it comes to things like that.”

Sorey let out a nervous laugh. “I...guess that’s true,” he admitted slowly, and Mikleo raised an eyebrow, noticing the Shepherd’s sudden hesitation.

Before he could interject, however, Sorey crossed his arms and leaned back, staring at the journal before him. “Then, if it wasn’t humans...” he wondered out loud. Mikleo cleared his throat, ready to explain—

“It was a war between seraphim,” they both said in unison. A wide grin stretched across Sorey’s face, while Mikleo looked back across the table at him, surprised.

“Aah Mikleo, this is so interesting!” Sorey exclaimed, then lowered his voice before continuing, remembering that he was in a library. “Have you actually read all of these?”

The record keeper nodded. “Most of them, anyway. I’ve been here much longer than you could even imagine.”

“I’m so jealous! It would take me more than one lifetime to go through so many journals!” He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I could stay here forever.”

Mikleo smiled. The Shepherd’s enthusiasm was endearing...and contagious. It had been a long time since he’d last felt this interested in the chronicles of the past Shepherds. Sorey’s excitement was slowly rekindling his love for history and exploration; finally, he had someone to share his theories with.

Which reminded him.

“I...have a record book where I take notes,” he offered hesitantly, looking down at his hands in his lap. “If you’d like, I could show it to you.”

Suddenly, Mikleo found himself growing anxious. He had never shared his writing with anyone before, let alone a human. “If you don’t want to, it’s alright,” he added quickly. “It’s mostly conjecture, but—”

He was cut off when Sorey leaned over the table with _stars_ in his eyes. “Y-you’d let me?” he asked, the awe in his voice making Mikleo shrink back in embarrassment. He almost regretted bringing it up, but there was no turning back now.

“O-of course, Shepherd Sorey,” he stammered, standing up abruptly and wringing his hands together. “Give me a moment to fetch it from the archives.”

“Honestly, Mikleo, just Sorey is fine!”

Mikleo left the room without responding, ignoring the flutter in his chest.

When he returned, Sorey was still silently flipping through one of the journals, his eyebrows furrowed with concentration. The care with which he handled the books, coupled with his unbridled enthusiasm, made Mikleo feel just a little less alone for once in his lifetime.

He placed his record book on the table, drawing Sorey’s attention. “Again, a lot of this might seem childish, you're not obliged to read it all…”

Sorey gave him a smile. “I'm just honored that you're sharing it with me! I'm really excited!”

He reached over the table and took the book, his fingers brushing Mikleo’s lightly where his hands still lingered. Mikleo tried to fight back a blush as Sorey began to go through his notes, treating his record book as carefully as he had treated the journals. He watched the Shepherd’s expression as he read; sometimes his eyes grew wide, other times he bit his lip thoughtfully, his eyes scanning the pages rapidly.

“Your notes are so elaborate,” he murmured, still half in thought as he glanced between Mikleo’s book and a Shepherd’s journal, comparing the writings in both. “You put a lot of thought into these—I never would’ve gone this far!”

“Like I said, I had a lot of time on my hands…”

Sorey let out a long breath. “This makes me want to travel even more,” he sighed, resting his elbows on the table and resting his jaw on his clasped hands. “It’s just...to think of all of these theories that make _sense_ , but still aren’t confirmed…”

He leaned back suddenly and stretched his arms above his head. “I wish I could go look at them for you, Mikleo! I want to visit each and every one of these places and tell you that you were _right_.”

This time, Mikleo couldn’t keep his face from growing impossibly warm. “I’m honoured you would say that, Shepherd Sorey...th-they’re just silly notes, after all—”

“They’re not silly at all!”

Sorey’s gaze bore into his, intense yet sincere. “You’ve never left the city, but you’ve pieced together so much about the old world all on your own,” he said, not a single trace of hesitation in his voice. “Mikleo, that’s _amazing_. You should share these with the world, just like Gramps does. I'm sure you'd write great stories!”

“I-I don’t have the right to something like that!” the seraph countered. “Stories are told by people who’ve lived exciting lives, by people who’ve been on _actual journeys_. My life...is the same, day in and day out.”

“But isn’t it already your job as a record keeper?”

Mikleo froze.

“You look after all of these super valuable books,” Sorey continued, “and you share stories with people every single day! Not to mention you’ve probably read every single one! That gives you more right than _anyone_ to tell your own stories, Mikleo. Don’t sell yourself short!”

The record keeper was speechless. In all his years as a seraph, no one had ever made his job sound so... _romantic_ . But the more he thought about it, the less he could disagree. Mikleo _had_ read every single book he had ever lent out, and even _more_ ; he knew the library like the back of his hand and could probably navigate it in his sleep. Of all the record keepers in the entire city, he was probably the one who had assimilated the most knowledge by far. There was nothing keeping him from telling others of what he had learned...except maybe his shyness.

“I...I suppose,” was all he could muster in response. It was still not an easy thought to process.

Sorey smiled at him regardless, supportive, yet understanding. “If you ever write something, lend me a copy, okay?” He grinned. “I'm sure my family in Elysia would love to read it too!”

“I...I will. Thank you...Sorey.”

Mikleo’s impulsive decision to drop the Shepherd’s title made him nervous, but the expression that lit up Sorey’s face in response was enough to chase all his worries away.

* * *

That evening, after Sorey left the library with a promise to return again the next day, Mikleo slipped into the West Wing. The setting sun filled the building with deep orange hues and long shadows, and the other seraphim busied themselves with lighting the lamps and ushering the remaining patrons out. Mikleo usually participated as well, but today he had another matter to attend to before it slipped his mind.

_Zenrus._ He was sure he had read the name in a book somewhere, and the most likely place was in the section reserved for records on influential seraphim. He browsed through the shelves, his well-trained eyes skimming through the familiar spines until he finally found the one he was looking for.

“Zenrus: the Deserter,” the title read. A symbol of a lightning bolt was etched onto the cover with Elder Hyanoa’s name underneath it. Somehow, this book did not look as well-read as the ones beside it despite having been written by a member of the Council, and he briefly wondered whether the title had kept people away.

He opened the book and carefully flipped through the pages. The phrase “founding member of Avarost” caught his eye almost instantly, and he frowned.

_‘A founder? Why did the Council never mention him to me? He left the capital...but why?’_

He continued to read even as the other record keepers shuffled out one by one and the last rays of sunlight faded from the sky. The lamps cast a warm glow over the furniture as Mikleo seated himself at one of the tables, still searching the book for answers.

_“Zenrus was haughty and refused to conform to the standards of seraphim society. He stubbornly believed that he could unite humans and seraphim and left Avarost after absorbing the ancient knowledge preserved in the city’s most valuable records. He is considered a traitor to this day.”_

The record held a clear negative bias, something he would not have expected from a seraph Elder. There was no guarantee that Zenrus was a perfect father figure like Sorey had described, but there was also no evidence to show that what he had believed in was wrong.

“So Zenrus founded a village where humans and seraphim could live together,” he murmured to himself. “And that village managed to produce a Shepherd. I wonder how the Council felt about that when they spoke to him...”

A chill ran up his spine. _‘Surely Zenrus knew how the Council felt about him...what could have made him send Sorey here? Was Sorey wrong about him, or did something make him desperate? And the Elders...are they hurting him? Forcing him to do things against his will? If they knew of his connection, what could have possessed them to make him their Shepherd?’_

Nothing made sense. How could the Elders have kept something so important from him? They had kept him from interacting with humans for _centuries_ —were they afraid that he would learn too much? What about Sorey? Was he alright? His mind began to fill with questions, and he knew that no book would be able to help him find the answers.

For the first time in his long life, Mikleo felt _lost_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's pretty obvious by this point which part I enjoyed writing most ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	5. Learning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sorey and Mikleo begin to realize how much they love being huge nerds together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote and wrote and before I knew it this chapter ended up being 10 pages ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> Bless you Aru for actually printing out said 10 pages and hand-editing them oh my god
> 
> Anyway, it's been a while since I last updated, but I'm definitely still working on this! I hold Librarian AU very close to my heart (as I do all my other AUs haha) so you can bet I'm chipping away at all of them little by little! I hope you all enjoy this chapter—please let me know what you think if you can, I always appreciate your responses!! \o/

“Good morning, Mikleo! I brought those journals back!”

“Hey Mikleo, can I spend the rest of the day here again?’

“Mikleoooo I’m so tired—thinking about Shepherd Pawan’s stories kept me up all night!”

Mikleo didn’t know how Sorey did it. His lessons with Lailah and the Council should have been rigorous and exhausting, yet, the Shepherd never failed to show up at the library every single day, sporting the same amount of energy and enthusiasm as always. Perhaps it was a human thing—some humans, judging by their records, seemed to accomplish so much more during their lifetimes than he thought possible.

Still, despite all the lectures he had to sit through and the physical training he had to endure, Sorey was always eager to learn more. Earlier that day, after bursting through the front door with an embarrassingly loud shout of Mikleo’s name, Sorey had begun to pester him with all kinds of questions about Avarost’s architecture and technology. Several hours later he was still at it, dashing around the library and gesturing towards parts of the building that even Mikleo hadn’t noticed before.

“How do you light the lamps when fire seraphim aren’t around?” he asked, indicating the giant chandeliers in the central area. “I’m sure those use pulleys, but what about the ones along the walls? They look like they’re hard to reach…”

He swiveled around rapidly and pointed at the patterns that ran along the walls, close to the ceiling—a fiery glow was just barely visible behind the carvings, and Mikleo was impressed that he had actually noticed them.

“You have a good eye, Sorey,” he said with a smile, taking his hand and pulling him towards a corner of the room. “Here, I’ll show you.”

Ever since dropping the Shepherd title when he spoke to Sorey, Mikleo had found himself growing steadily more comfortable around him. Maybe it had been fear of the Council that had forced him to keep his distance, but after learning so much about Sorey and doing his own research, he had decided that he could no longer leave the young Shepherd alone. Not when his presence in Avarost alone elicited so many questions.

He wanted to warn Sorey that he could be in danger, only he wasn’t sure where the danger stemmed from—the Council, or Zenrus. Not to mention there was still so much he didn’t know about Sorey—how he had come to live in Zenrus’ domain in the first place, and why he had been sent to become Shepherd. Mikleo wanted to learn more, to fill in as many blanks as he could on his own before confronting Sorey.

But for now, Sorey only had so much time on his hands. So, Mikleo decided to oblige until he had more answers, even as he pulled back a curtain to reveal an intricate pulley system.

“These are connected to flint igniters, all the way up there.” He raised a hand and pointed towards the wall carvings. “The alcove behind the wall is filled with paraffin wax. If I pull on one of these, the flint creates a spark and lights a small torch. Then I can use another pulley to control the torch and ignite the wax.”

Sorey placed a hand underneath his chin as he looked up at the wall. “How do you get the paraffin all the way up there?” he asked, genuinely curious. “And isn’t it dangerous, having fire in the walls with so many books in the same building?”

“I...uh—”

“That’s why I’m always around.”

They turned to look at Edna, who was disinterestedly examining her nails. “As an architect, it’s my responsibility to make sure this place doesn’t fall apart. Obviously I know how it works.”

She looked up at them, slinging her umbrella over her shoulder. “There are sand traps built into the walls and between the layers of wax. If the flames get too strong, they’ll snuff the fire out.”

Sorey nodded, still fascinated. “And the paraffin?”

“We earth seraphim add more layers of wax and sand every few years using a mechanism in the basement.” She gave Mikleo a teasing look. “Meebo wouldn’t know about that, of course. He doesn’t care about any parts of the library that don’t have books in them.”

“Edna!”

“Don’t deny it; you know it’s true,” she shot back, making him blush. It was true that he only enjoyed his job because it allowed him to be surrounded by books on a daily basis. He wrung his hands together and pouted slightly.

Sorey let out a laugh. “I understand, though! I mean, I’d much rather spend my time up here reading than wandering through a basement,” he admitted sheepishly. “No offense, Edna,” he added quickly

The earth seraph simply turned away from him and opened her umbrella. “I have my duty and you have yours, Shepherd,” she said softly, her tone catching both of them off-guard. “We all have our parts to play if we want to maintain the fragile state of this world.” 

Sorey’s shoulders slumped, which did not go unnoticed by Mikleo. Her words clearly held some sort of meaning to him that Mikleo did not yet understand.

After a few moments of silence, Sorey finally spoke. “You’re right, Edna,” he said, his smile not reaching his eyes. “I left my home because I wanted to change the world. I asked the Council for the power of the Shepherd because there’s something I need to do. Now, I have a duty to learn as much as I can...about my powers, about Avarost, about the world.”

He turned to Mikleo. “That’s why I keep asking you all these questions, Mikleo!” he added, his grin widening ever so slightly. “I already find this stuff interesting, but it also helps me understand Avarost a little better...and understand  _ you _ better.”

Mikleo felt his heart flutter lightly within his chest. “Thank you, Sorey,” he replied, genuinely touched. “I...want to get to know you better, too. And I’m happy to show you around the library anytime.”

At his admission, Sorey practically glowed, while Edna shot him a knowing grin, clearly pleased with this outcome. Mikleo tried to glare at Edna, but failed when Sorey unexpectedly latched onto his arm.

“Are there more hidden mechanisms like that one around?” he asked excitedly, unwittingly pulling the record keeper closer. Mikleo cheeks flushed when he realised that he could feel Sorey’s breath against his forehead, lightly ruffling his bangs. He had never been this close to a human in his entire life. He could feel the warmth radiating off Sorey’s form, and he swallowed thickly in an attempt to calm his rapid heartbeat.

“I...yes,” he managed to say. “T-there are more pulleys hidden around the library...thirty of them, to be exact.”

“Could you show them all to me?”

“They’re called  _ hidden _ pulleys for a reason, Sorey…”

“Alright, then I’ll just have to find them all myself!” Sorey declared with a laugh. He let go of Mikleo and ran deeper into the library, startling a group of seraphim gathered nearby.

“H-hey, wait!” Mikleo hesitated for a brief moment before dashing after him. The two of them weaved between tables and bookshelves and people, the Shepherd always managing to stay just out of the record keeper’s reach.

Although Mikleo knew that they were disturbing the sanctity of the library, in that moment he couldn’t care less. Trying to catch Sorey should have been annoying, but to his surprise, Mikleo found himself letting out a laugh of his own while lunging forward, barely grazing Sorey’s arm as the Shepherd danced out of his range.

Edna watched the two of them in silence, unable to hold back a small smile of her own.

* * *

“I’m worried for him,” Mikleo admitted softly, his eyes still trained on the front door long after Sorey had left.

Edna cast him a sidelong glance. “We all are. With his recklessness, he might end up being the Shepherd with the shortest lifespan yet.”

“Not that.” He sighed. “Sorey told me yesterday that he was raised by a seraph named Zenrus.”

The architect raised an eyebrow, and he continued. “He said that Zenrus was a great man, but I read the records on him and they spoke differently—”

Edna kicked him in the leg. Mikleo grunted and doubled over, nursing his leg with his hands.

“Stupid Meebo. You should know by now that what the Council feeds you isn’t always true.”

He gritted his teeth. “Enlighten me,” he deadpanned, not in the mood to try to figure out what she meant.

She crossed her arms. “Zenrus was a powerful, intimidating seraph, but he was also like a father to all of us. He travelled a lot, and he liked to tell us stories about the human settlements he visited. All he ever wanted was to help humans and seraphim understand each other better.”

“W-wait, you  _ knew _ Zenrus?!”

Edna shot him a look. “I’m  _ ancient _ , Meebo, especially by  _ your  _ standards. You should know that by now.”

Her expression softened. “The other members of the Council didn’t like what he told us about the outside world, though, especially when he spoke so fondly about humans.” She scoffed. “So, they kicked him out.”

He didn’t want to believe it. The Council he had tried his hardest to obey for so many centuries...they had banished a seraph for defying their beliefs, then lied about him in their records. What else could they be hiding? Had he been manipulated all this time?

Upon seeing his shocked expression, the earth seraph let out a mirthless laugh. “Even Lailah knew about this, Meebo. That’s why she tried to get you to warm up to humans more, even though the Council told you to stay away from them.”

Mikleo’s head was spinning again. “Lailah...too...?” he managed to choke out.

“You’re the only one out of the three of us who never defied the Council...until now.” Her grin grew wider. “We tried everything we could, but to think the  _ Shepherd _ ended up being the one to convince you after all these years. It’s pretty ironic.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“Stop lying to yourself. I’ve seen the way you look at him—like he’s a piece of ancient literature you want to read over and over until you know him cover-to-cover.”

“That’s—” He stopped, blushing slightly.  _ ‘That’s not entirely wrong…’ _

His silence clearly spoke volumes because Edna gave him a wry smile, satisfied with the outcome of their conversation.

“Soulmates don't show up every other century, you know,” she teased. “You'd better make the most of it.”

Mikleo groaned. That didn't make things any easier.

* * *

Lailah was waiting in the palace courtyard when Sorey arrived, slightly out of breath. She watched as he slowed to a halt, her smile widening slightly when she noticed the satchel strung across his shoulder.

“Did you visit the library again, Sorey-san?” she asked teasingly, knowing that she would receive an affirmative as an answer. Sure enough, the young Shepherd’s cheeks turned pink and he nodded quickly, pulling the bag off and placing it on the ground beside him.

“I got some more journals from Mikleo!” he replied enthusiastically, eagerly pulling one out of his bag and holding it out for her to see. “This one belonged to Shepherd Elene...apparently she was the one who discovered the caverns underneath Marlind! Isn't that amazing, Lailah? I think hers might be one of my favourite journals so far!”

The fire seraph let out a soft laugh. “I’m happy to hear that, Sorey-san, but we really should begin our training now.”

His face grew hot. “O-oh yeah, of course!”

They began to practice their routine forms and stances, a ritual that Sorey had grown accustomed to over the past few days. Training with Lailah had already begun to feel like something he had been doing for years—being in her presence felt natural and reminded him of home. It was almost as comfortable as the camaraderie he had been building up with Mikleo, and a smile played upon his lips as he thought of the conversations they’d had earlier that day.

To Sorey, spending time with Mikleo always felt like a breath of fresh air in a stifling environment. The Council’s gaze weighed heavily on him at all times...except when he was at the library. Perhaps it was the books that never failed to calm his nerves when he was having a difficult day...or maybe it was the seraph who was constantly by his side for as long as he was there. Sorey let out a wistful sigh, his arms faltering ever so slightly as he moved between forms.

His change in mood did not go unnoticed by Lailah—it was obvious that he was distracted. She knew that Sorey had been working hard at both his training and his self-imposed research, which was why she was glad she had suggested that he visit the library in the first place as a distraction. Mikleo had been in need of more companionship, too, but she had never expected the two of them to click so quickly and so  _ well _ . Her heart grew warm whenever she heard Sorey talking about his visits to the library, but she knew Mikleo, and while it was comforting to hear from Edna that he was loosening up, Lailah couldn’t help but worry about him. Mikleo had always tried his best to shut himself off, but both she and Edna knew that he longed for a friend—an  _ equal _ —in a way that neither of them could ever hope to offer. 

She brought her arms down to rest them at her sides and walked over to the edge of the courtyard, seating herself upon one of the ledges overlooking the city. 

“You know, Sorey-san, Shepherd Elene was one of Mikleo’s favourites too,” she said softly, watching Sorey fondly. “He read her stories all the time when he was younger.”

Sorey paused and turned to meet her gaze. “R-really?” he asked, suddenly even more curious than before.

Lailah tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I remember when he used to run around this courtyard saying he wished he could have been her Prime Lord.” She let out a gentle laugh. “He may not show it as much now, but Mikleo was quite an enthusiastic young seraph. We used to spar all the time.”

“I...wow, I can’t even imagine,” Sorey replied, slightly awed as he walked over to her and sat down beside her, eager to hear more. “Why’d he change so much?”

She lowered her gaze. “It’s not my place to say, but I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that the Council was involved.”

Sorey nodded. “Mikleo hasn’t told me much about them,” he admitted with a frown. “I wish he’d open up to me more. I’m interested in learning more about the Shepherds, but…” He bit his lip as his cheeks grew warm. “I want to learn more about  _ him _ , too.”

Lailah placed a hand on his shoulder. “Mikleo tries to hide from all of us, but he can’t keep it all to himself forever!” She smiled reassuringly. “I’m sure you can find a way...maybe the upcoming party will be a good occasion!”

“Yeah, maybe—wait, a party?!”

“You didn’t know?” Lailah tilted her head slightly. “The Council is organizing a party for high-ranking members of Avarost’s society. They want you to introduce yourself to them as proof of your ascension.”

“Ascension?” Sorey gave her an incredulous look. “Does...does that mean my training is over?!” 

She clapped her hands together. “Well you’ve mastered the basics of commanding artes, and you’ve been able to control your purifying flame. I’d say that makes you a full-fledged Shepherd, Sorey-san!”

Sorey let out a slow, shaky breath; then, he jumped up and thrust his fist into the air. “I finally did it!” he exclaimed, staring up at the evening sky, a mixture of emotions filling his heart. Finally, he could go back home to his village, his friends and his grandfather. Finally, he could do something to  _ help _ . 

But as much as it filled him with a sense of purpose, a part of him felt a pang of loneliness at the thought of leaving the library behind; at the thought of leaving  _ Mikleo _ behind. He wanted so badly to stay, but he also desperately missed his family, and, more importantly, he had a duty to the world now as the Shepherd.

“Do...do you think Mikleo would be able to come to the party too?” he asked hesitantly. If he had to leave Avarost, he wanted to spend as much time with the record keeper as he possibly could.

“I don’t see why not,” Lailah replied with a smile.

Sorey’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of walking beside Mikleo at a social event, or sharing a meal with him and discussing more of their various theories, or holding his hand and pulling him into a dark corner when the Council wasn’t looking so he could kiss him beneath the stone columns—

Sorey’s thoughts screeched to a halt and his face turned completely red.

_ ‘Wait...where did that come from?!’ _

He looked away, hoping Lailah hadn’t noticed, but it was clear that the damage had been done.. 

“Mikleo isn’t a fan of parties, so it might be hard to convince him to come along,” she offered, giving him a knowing look. “But if it’s  _ you _ , Sorey-san, I’m sure he’ll make an exception.”

She gave him a small wink, and Sorey buried his face in his hands.

_ ‘I can't believe I'm doing this.’ _

* * *

The sky had turned a dusky violet by the time Sorey made it back to the library after his training. He was sure that inviting Mikleo to a party could wait a day, but the eagerness in his heart said otherwise. He wanted to have as much time as he could to convince the record keeper, having seen how stubborn he could be when it came to certain things.

The doors creaked loudly as he pushed them open, and the echo rang throughout the now-empty halls of the library. A part of Sorey wondered whether Mikleo had gone home already, but his instincts told him otherwise. Sure enough, as he stepped through the doors, he caught a glimpse of a faint orange light shining in the far corner of the central area.

Sorey weaved through the bookcases until he found an open area, a table covered with books, and a heavily-focused Mikleo seated behind a large stack, immersed in some kind of research. The candlelight reflected off his glasses and made his violet eyes glow with an orange hue—combined with the slivers of moonlight filtering through the windows, giving his hair a pearlescent glow, Mikleo looked more ethereal than ever before. Sorey hesitated for a moment, not wanting to break Mikleo’s concentration, but, as always, curiosity and impatience got the better of him.

“H-hey, Mikleo,” he said slowly as he stepped out from behind a bookshelf, making the record keeper jump in his seat slightly. Sorey flinched reflexively as well, and held his hands up in both defense and apology.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you,” he added, suddenly shy. “There’s just...something I needed to ask you.”

Mikleo closed the book he was reading and placed it on the table beside him, adjusting his glasses slightly. “It couldn't wait until tomorrow?” he asked as he stood up, folding his arms across his chest.

In the lamplight, Mikleo’s posture was regal and imposing. Sorey couldn't help but swallow slightly and clear his throat before continuing.

“I guess it could, but I really wanted to ask now,” he explained. “Lailah said the Council is planning a party to celebrate my, uh, ascension...and I wanted you to come with me.”

“The Council is…?” Mikleo shook his head. “I'm sorry, but I’d rather avoid it, Sorey.” He looked down, shuffling his feet awkwardly. “I...don't want to embarrass them...especially at such an important event.”

Sorey tilted his head. “How would  _ you _ end up embarrassing  _ them _ ? I don't get it.”

“They just…they've never taken me seriously,” Mikleo sighed. “If I'm not careful, I might end up talking about the journals or my own records...and then they'd kick me out for talking about such silly things—”

“Those aren't silly things, Mikleo!” Sorey interjected, taking a step forward. “You care so much about books and the history of the world! The Council gave you this job, right? So why would they stop you from talking about it?”

“They've done it before!” Mikleo snapped, and Sorey recoiled in response. The record keeper took a deep breath, placing a hand over his face.

“I just...don't want my interests to be called worthless in front of all those people...not again.” He looked away. “I-I'm sorry for disappointing you, Sorey, and for getting upset...but I can't go.”

Mikleo knew that he had already said too much, but the memories made it difficult for him to hold back. He bit the inside of his cheek and tried his best to clear his mind.

Then, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to see the Shepherd watching him carefully, his green eyes filled with concern and warmth. 

“I'm sorry that happened to you, Mikleo,” he said softly, sincerely. “But I  _ promise _ , as long as I'm here, it won't happen again. I love literature as much as you do, and Lailah seems to think the Council won't lay a hand on me, so I can protect you!”

He let out a laugh. “Besides,” he added shyly. “I’d be pretty lonely if you weren't there, Mikleo.” His cheeks were stained pink. “I really, really like spending time with you.”

Despite himself, Mikleo felt his face grow warm. He hoped Sorey wouldn't notice in the darkness. “I-I still don't think it's a good idea,” he insisted, though his argument sounded much weaker in his head than it had earlier. Now, the thought of spending an entire evening with Sorey felt like it was enough to chase all of his prior fears away.

Almost as if he could hear what was going on in Mikleo’s head, Sorey smiled. “But you're not against it anymore, are you?”

Mikleo pursed his lips. “I guess...I guess one night couldn't hurt,” he finally huffed, looking up at the ceiling and avoiding Sorey’s eyes. 

The Shepherd’s grin widened nonetheless, and he placed his other hand on Mikleo’s back, pulling him into a hug. “Thank you, Mikleo!” he exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement. “I'm really glad we get to go together!”

In that instant, the record keeper stiffened in his arms. Sorey realized that he might have overstepped his boundaries, and he quickly pulled away, embarrassed.

“I-I’m sorry—”

Mikleo raised a hand. “There’s nothing to apologize for, Sorey,” he said. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, he reached forward and lightly grasped the hem of Sorey’s sleeve.

“I’m...excited to go with you, too,” he whispered as if sharing a long-kept secret, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Just tell me when it is, and I’ll meet you there, okay?”

The Shepherd nodded enthusiastically, the grin never leaving his face.

* * *

They both left the library not long after, going their separate ways as Sorey made his way back to the palace and Mikleo began his walk back into the center of the city, towards his own home.

Now that he and Sorey were apart, however, it didn’t take long for the fear to start creeping in again.

Mikleo had only truly realized what he’d committed to in the moment that Sorey had hugged him—he would be attending an event organized by the Council of Elders, and he would be doing it at the invitation of a human _. _ If they planned to arrive together, enter together, spend the entire evening together...he would look like Sorey’s  _ escort _ .

He grew anxious at the thought of the Council’s response. They would be furious, offended by his impudence, and the last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to himself after spending so many years hiding from the judgemental eyes of Avarost’s society.

Then, the thought of Sorey’s arms wrapped around him, warm and comforting, came to mind, and all his worries dissolved in an instant. He had felt so safe, so  _ loved _ in the Shepherd’s embrace—being with Sorey filled him with a sense of completeness that he had never experienced before. Somehow, Mikleo knew that with Sorey by his side, he could overcome anything, and the wrath of the Elders was no exception.

Mikleo smiled to himself. No matter how they reacted, spending one night with Sorey outside of the library would be more than worth it.

* * *

Meanwhile, Sorey slept on, his dreams haunted by violet eyes and a shy, hesitant smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes this is the chapter where I spent hours designing a lighting mechanic that wasn't even essential to the plot just so I could have Sormik talk about it


	6. Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANOTHER chapter that ended up being much longer than I anticipated hahaha...this one was really fun to write though!! It took a LOT of revisions but it's finally done, I already can't wait to get started on the next one!!
> 
> As always a HUGE THANKS to Aru for proofing these giant chapters and getting stuck in revision hell with me uwu
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this one!! Do let me know what you think if you can!! <3

“Does this...look okay?”

Mikleo stepped out from behind a screen wearing a pristine white cloak, pinned together at the side by a gold pin bearing the city’s symbol. He wore his regular clothes underneath, the royal blue standing out brilliantly amidst the white. The cloak only fell down to his knees, and he frowned slightly at the sight. It was a little too short.

“Well  _ that's _ nostalgic,” Edna teased. “You haven't worn that thing in, what, a hundred years? Two hundred?”

“One-hundred twenty-six,” Mikleo replied, folding his arms across his chest.

“Heh, I guess you were still a shorty back then.”

“Sh-shut up!” he shot back, drawing the cloak more tightly around himself, embarrassed. “I know it's the wrong size, Edna, that's why I asked.”

She shrugged. “No matter how much you dress yourself up, a Meebo is still a Meebo.”

Mikleo huffed. “I still can't believe you pulled the short card on me. You've been  _ your  _ size for over—”

He froze when she pointed the tip of the umbrella at his face, right between his eyes.

“Finish that sentence and you won't even make it out of this room, let alone the ascension party,” she deadpanned, her eyes flashing dangerously.

“Now, now, you two.”

Lailah stepped into Mikleo’s room, graceful as ever. Her smile grew brighter when she saw his outfit.

“Mikleo, you look wonderful! It's been a very long time since I last saw you in that cloak.”

Mikleo’s expression softened. “Thanks Lailah,” he replied. “I didn't think I'd be wearing it again at an occasion like this.”

He glanced down at the pin resting against his chest. The sigil of Avarost glinted up at him, stirring up memories of his childhood spent at the palace. He shook his head, driving them away.

“Ah, right!” Lailah clapped her hands together. “I'm late because I brought you something!”

She crossed the room and stood in front of Mikleo, placing a hand under her chin and giving him a once-over. Then, she reached forward and patted down the folds in his cloak, stirring up some dust and making him sneeze.

“Lailah!” He rubbed his nose, pouting lightly. “I was going to dust it off later!”

“Am I not allowed to mother you every now and then?”

“You're not my—” he began, then promptly clamped his mouth shut as he was glared at for the second time that day.

After Lailah finished straightening out his cloak, she took a step back and pulled a small box from the folds of her skirt. “Here,” she said, holding it out to him. “To replace that pin you dislike so much.”

Mikleo took the box from her hands and opened it. He gasped when he saw what was inside, closing it immediately and handing it back to her.

“I-I can't use this, Lailah!” he sputtered, covering his face to hide the redness spreading to his cheeks. “This is embarrassing, but also...I can't take something that's this important to you.”

Lailah simply smiled. “I'm giving it to you  _ because _ it's important to me. And I know it’ll protect you from whatever’s been bothering you.”

Mikleo frowned and adjusted his glasses. “You noticed.”

The fire seraph nodded. “Of course I did.” She looked at him sadly. “I know going back to the palace makes you nervous...so I wanted you to have something to make you feel more at ease.”  

Then, she gave him a quick wink. “Besides, it’s more appropriate for  _ you _ to have this tonight.”

If possible, Mikleo’s face turned even redder. “Lailah! That...that doesn't make any sense! You're the one who—”

She placed a finger against her lips. “Shh! Not tonight! You’re the one Sorey-san invited, not me. Now take it!”

Mikleo heaved a soft sigh, unclasping the Avarost pin and placing it on the table beside him. He looked down at the box, chewing on his lower lip.

“At least this is better than that rusty old one,” he said finally, taking it out of the box and attaching it to his cloak. “Thank you, Lailah. I'll treasure it.”

Lailah and Edna smiled in unison.

_ ‘Our little record keeper is growing up.’ _

* * *

Sorey fidgeted with his collar. He fastened and unfastened the top button over and over again, and when his fingers were tired, he began to rock back and forth on the balls of his feet.

It would be an understatement to say that Sorey was worried—the Council of Elders was throwing a party just for him, and while he was grateful, the pressure was clearly on him to do well as a Shepherd. Historically Sorey wasn't the youngest Shepherd, but he wasn’t much older than the person who had been. He only hoped that he wouldn’t end up disappointing anyone.

Lailah certainly had faith in him though, and that thought in itself boosted his confidence a little. She had trained him and decided that he was ready, so how could he disagree? Plus, if the party made him feel uncomfortable, at least he would have people there whose company he could enjoy.

To be precise, he would have  _ Mikleo _ . The thought of being able to escape to the record keeper’s side whenever he felt overwhelmed was enough to put him even more at ease. He sat down at the edge of the fountain in the city square where he had told Mikleo to meet him and began to twiddle his thumbs.

_ ‘I’ll feel better once Mikleo gets here, I'm sure of it—’ _

Almost as though Sorey’s thoughts had summoned him, Mikleo’s voice rang through the evening air, calling out Sorey’s name.

The Shepherd got to his feet and spun around. The record keeper was standing at the top of the staircase leading to the marketplace, looking down at the fountain with a thoughtful expression on his face. He made his way down the stairs as Sorey approached him, the two of them meeting right at the base.

“I hope I'm not late,” Mikleo said, sounding apologetic. Sorey didn't reply—he was preoccupied with how the fading evening light made Mikleo’s eyes sparkle behind his glasses. There was something in the way he held himself in that moment; if Mikleo looked regal and poised on a daily basis, seeing him in the formal garb of Avarost was absolutely stunning.

When Mikleo raised an eyebrow, Sorey realized that he had been staring for a moment too long. “No, no, you're not late!” he replied quickly. “I haven't been waiting long at all.”

Then, Mikleo smiled, and it felt as though all the air had been knocked out of Sorey’s lungs. “I'm glad,” he said, pushing his glasses up higher on his nose. “Well, uh, should we get going?”

Sorey nodded. Just then, his gaze landed upon the pin holding Mikleo’s cloak together. He had seen many other officials walking around the city with identical cloaks and pins, but this one was different.

Instead of the sigil of Avarost, Mikleo’s pin bore the symbol of the Shepherd.

Sorey’s cheeks flared up. “That...that’s…” he stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence as he pointed at the pin. The seraph's face turned a similar shade of red.

“Lailah gave it to me,” he explained. “She said it was for good luck.”

“I...I see.”

Sorey had no idea what Lailah had been thinking, but they were practically a matching set now. If Mikleo had also surmised this and decided to wear the pin anyway...it meant he had chosen to face his fear and stand at Sorey’s side.

Sorey’s heart beat just a little faster knowing that Mikleo trusted him enough to step in if the Elders made a fuss; he couldn’t help the silly grin that spread across his face, and when Mikleo sent him a questioning look, he simply shrugged and gestured down the road.

“Let’s just get going,” he said quickly. Mikleo frowned at him, suspicious, but didn’t press him any further. He turned away and started walking towards the palace, and Sorey followed him, straight-faced but filled with determination.

_ ‘I won’t let you down, Mikleo. I swear.’ _

* * *

The palace was smaller than Mikleo remembered, but that didn't make it any less intimidating. He had been much younger the last time he had been here. The ornate carvings running up the stone columns in the entryway had always captivated him, and he had tried day after day to decipher the words etched along their bases in a language that no one remembered. A memory popped into his mind: one of Lailah smiling at him as he circled a pillar, his cloak dragging behind him as he tried to read, pressing his nose against the words while the fire seraph let out a mirthful laugh—

“Ready to go in?”

His thoughts interrupted, Mikleo turned to look at the human standing beside him. The Shepherd’s cloak and unusually subdued expression made Sorey look more formal, more purposeful. But he was still Sorey, after all; having him close always seemed to be comforting, no matter the environment, and the smile on his face never failed to warm Mikleo’s heart.

“I’m ready,” he replied, and the two of them walked up the marble staircase, side by side.

* * *

When they entered the Great Hall, Mikleo sucked in a deep breath. The room was filled to the brim with white-robed officials, and all eyes were on Sorey the moment he stepped in. He chanced a sidelong glance at Sorey—the Shepherd’s calm exterior had not wavered, and it was a stark contrast to Mikleo’s heart which was now thumping rapidly within his chest.

His fingers reached for the hand resting a few inches away from his and latched onto the end of Sorey’s sleeve lightly. It was a gesture innocuous enough to go unnoticed by everyone else in the room, and he just needed a few seconds of moral support to prepare himself.

To his surprise, Sorey’s fingers curled around his. He laced their hands together, giving Mikleo’s hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. He held on for a few moments longer before letting go slowly, turning his head and giving Mikleo a soft smile.

“Shepherd Sorey!”

Sorey looked in the direction the voice had come from. “Ah, I have to go,” he said, sounding disappointed. “I want to stay, but...I'll be back to check on you later, okay?”

Mikleo nodded as the Shepherd jogged into the crowd and away from him. He curled and uncurled the fingers that were still warm from Sorey’s touch. He missed the feeling of their clasped hands already, but the courage it had given him would be enough to tide him over for a few hours.

“Mikleo.”

The voice that spoke sent a chill down his spine. He forced himself to look up and took in a sharp breath when he saw a member of the Council approaching him.

“...E-Elder Amenoch,” he managed to say. “I trust you’ve been doing well.”

“Indeed,” came the response.

Mikleo noticed the older seraph’s gaze flickering between his face and the pin resting against his chest, like a predator analyzing his prey. It was clear he'd been watching them until Sorey had been pulled away, taking the opportunity to draw closer. Mikleo clenched his fists, hoping no one would notice how tense he was beneath his cloak.

Amenoch cleared his throat. “I see you’ve become acquainted with the Shepherd,” he said, getting straight to the point. Mikleo swallowed. “I hear he has been visiting the library a great deal.”

“I...suppose he has,” he replied, choosing to remain on guard. “I’ve seen him reading several journals in the world history section. He seems very dedicated.”

The older seraph frowned. “That human constantly allows himself to be distracted by dusty relics from a bygone age. I’m surprised he completed his training so quickly regardless.”

“T-they aren’t just dusty relics—”

“Oh?” Amenoch raised an eyebrow. “Well, of course, as a record keeper you must be rather attached to those books. Still, a Shepherd has more immediate concerns. Whereas you, Mikleo—”

At that, he paused. “Never mind. I initially suspected that  _ you  _ were the one who provided that boy with his first journal...but you would not let yourself be swayed by a human, would you?”

A rush of indignance overcame Mikleo and he crossed his arms defiantly. “You say such things, and then you throw a party for the Shepherd—the bridge between humans and seraphim. You allow humans into the city to celebrate the Shepherd’s ascension, and you supply our library with human books. If that isn't hypocrisy I don't know what is.”

He grinned when he saw that his words had had the desired effect. “Admit it,” he continued. “The Council is beginning to realize that humans and seraphim can't live apart forever. There needs to be a balance—”

“ _ Know your place _ , record keeper.”

Mikleo flinched. He had gotten carried away. For centuries he had thought himself incapable of talking back to the Elders; yet now here he was, standing in front of a fuming Elder Amenoch. The feeling had filled him with pride for a brief moment, but it was quickly replaced by a cold fear when he noticed more heads starting to turn in their direction.

“Your duty is to serve those who search for knowledge,” Amenoch hissed. “You would do well to remember who  _ gave _ you that duty and what we stand for.”

Unable to form a coherent retort, Mikleo simply sighed. “Yes, Elder Amenoch,” he said softly, and the submissiveness in his tone seemed to calm the older seraph down.

“Good,” he said, turning around. “You should not spend too much time around the Shepherd. Humans are a necessary presence in this world, but they cannot be trusted, after all.” He grunted. “It is a shame that we need him to liaise with the outside world. If not, we would have turned him away despite his pleas.”

_ ‘Pleas? Sorey had pleaded with them?’  _ Mikleo did not like the sound of that, but he also didn’t know whether to trust Amenoch’s words. Before he could come to a decision, however, the older seraph had already walked away, no doubt to tell the other members of the Council of his insolence.

Mikleo wanted to scream. The rest of them would be upon him soon enough. Sorey had said he would protect him, but there was not much even the Shepherd could do while being whisked away by nobles, especially at a party meant for him.

“I...I need a distraction,” he muttered to himself, making his way towards the banquet table in the corner of the room.  _ ‘Something to calm me down, just for now.’ _

* * *

A few hours later, Sorey let out a heavy breath. He was being forced to mingle with the stuffiest bunch of nobles he had ever come across. They refused to listen to anything he had to say about the outside world, talking instead about seraph politics and other things that had no effect on the world order. Their ignorance about everything outside of Avarost still caught him completely off-guard—Mikleo had been equally ignorant at first, but at least he had made an effort to understand rather than brushing him off entirely.

Eventually, Sorey managed to excuse himself by bringing up his (very human) need to eat, allowing him to make a break for the banquet table.

_ ‘Seraphim don't even need to eat, but they still have all this food,’ _ he wondered as he piled food onto his plate.  _ ‘All of this can't be just for me...was it some kind of formality in the past? But no one else is eating...is this how much they think a single human can eat?!’ _

A sharp prod to his back snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned around to see Edna standing behind him, wearing some kind of oversized lab coat over her usual dress. But before he could even ask, she tugged on his cloak, forcing him down to look her in the eye.

“We have a problem,” she declared, deadpan as always, but Sorey did not miss the trace of concern in her voice. “You need to come with me.”

“W-what's going on?”

She let out a frustrated sigh. “Long story short: Meebo drank something and didn't think to ask what was in it. Now he's lying on the floor and—”

Sorey’s chest seized up with fear. “Mikleo...is he…”

“You didn't let me finish. He's—”

“Where is he?!”

Edna rolled her eyes. “I took him to one of the back rooms, but—”

Without a second though, Sorey set his plate down and dashed out of the hall. The wind whipped at his cloak as he turned a corner and made his way past the palace courtyard, towards the main building. He checked every room and called out Mikleo’s name, but to no avail.

He was beginning to panic.  _ ‘I was just separated from him for a few hours! How could I let this happen? And after I told him I'd protect him and everything...’ _

Suddenly, he heard a faint voice calling his name. It sounded weak and drawn out, almost like a whisper, and Sorey gripped his chest tightly.

“I'm coming, Mikleo,” he said, following the sound of the seraph’s voice. He came to a closed door at the end of a hallway and pushed it open carefully, peeking his head in.

The sight of the record keeper curled up on the ground was enough to make Sorey’s blood run cold. He pushed the door open and ran to Mikleo’s side, crouching beside him and cupping his face in his hands. Mikleo’s glasses were slightly askew and his face was flushed, but he seemed fine otherwise, and Sorey heaved a sigh of relief.

“Mmf, Sorey, your hands are too warm.”

He met dazed violet eyes. Mikleo was squinting up at him, and his soft expression made him look like he had just woken up from a nap. Sorey couldn't tear his eyes away.

“He's hopelessly drunk.”

At the sound of Edna’s voice, Sorey jolted upright. He let go of Mikleo’s face and scurried away from him, wrapping his arms around his knees. “D-drunk?” he asked, both flustered and confused.

Edna nodded. “Avarost liquor was stronger than he thought it would be. This was his first time ever trying it...I  _ warned him _ ,” she said through gritted teeth, “but he decided to be a stubborn brat, so here we are.”

Mikleo groaned in response. “Stupid Edna...I can handle alcohol,” he grunted, forcing himself upright. He lazily adjusted his glasses and made an attempt to stand up, his knees wobbling.

Sorey was at his side in an instant, one hand around his waist and the other on his arm to steady him. “Easy, Mikleo,” he warned. He didn't know how to deal with drunk humans, let alone  _ seraphim _ , and he gave Edna a desperate look.

“What...should we do with him?” he asked carefully. “We can't just leave him here, and he definitely can't go back out there…”

Edna shrugged. “Just keep an eye on him until he passes out. It won't be too long, I'm sure.”

“But the party…”

“Please,” she scoffed. “Do you actually  _ want _ to go back?”

He cringed and shook his head. Mikleo’s presence was the only thing that could have made talking to that group of seraphim even remotely tolerable. Now that he was here, Mikleo was Sorey’s first priority.

“I'll keep him company,” he said, and Edna gave him a faint smile, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Good. Then I'll keep the Council busy.” She glanced out the door. “If they even realize he's gone, that is. They've never cared about Meebo aside from policing his interests.”

The bitterness in her voice did not go unnoticed by Sorey, but he barely had a chance to open his mouth before she spun on her heel and walked away, leaving him alone with a heavily inebriated Mikleo slumped against his shoulder.

“S-she's right...”

Sorey looked down at Mikleo only to realize that their noses were merely inches apart. Mikleo was staring at him blearily through his glasses, his cheeks still red. Sorey was sure his face was the same colour by now.

He tightened his hold on the record keeper ever so slightly. “You need to sit down, Mikleo,” he said softly, guiding him over to a corner and bringing them down to rest on the ground. “Do you need water? Sleep?”

Mikleo shook his head rapidly. “I need to...to stop  _ sucking up _ to that s-stupid Council!!” he yelled, making another move to stand up.

This time, Sorey clapped a hand over his mouth and tugged him down with the other. “They're really strict, I know, but that doesn't mean you have to—”

“You don't understand!” Mikleo wrested his face free from Sorey’s grip and glared at him. “You don't know anything, Sorey!”

Sorey frowned. It was true that Mikleo was always rather tight-lipped about his past whenever they spent time together. “Then help me understand,” he said. “I want to know more about you, Mikleo. I always have.”

Mikleo stopped struggling against Sorey’s hold and looked up at him. His eyes were wide and filled with sorrow, and Sorey felt his heart break in an instant. He had never seen Mikleo look so vulnerable.

He reached forward and cupped the seraph’s cheek with one hand. “Please,” he continued. “You've been holding this in for so long...let me share it with you. Let me listen.”

Mikleo shivered. His cheek was warm under Sorey’s hand, and he turned his face and closed his eyes, nuzzling closer. Unable to resist, Sorey brushed his thumb across Mikleo’s cheekbone, and the seraph made a soft sound of appreciation in response. He repeated the gesture a few more times as they sat there in silence, simply enjoying each other's presence.

“Do you know why the Council made me a record keeper, Sorey?” Mikleo finally whispered, opening his eyes and meeting Sorey’s gaze.

Sorey shook his head and lowered his arm when the seraph made a move to pull away. Mikleo shuffled backwards so he could rest his back against the wall, and Sorey followed suit, sitting right next to him.

“I don't think the Council realized I'd be such a handful before they took me in,” Mikleo said, letting out a mirthless laugh. “They learned pretty quickly, didn't they?”

“Wait.” Sorey raised a hand and gave him a questioning look. “The Council took you in? And what does this have to do with becoming a record keeper—”

Mikleo scowled at him, effectively shutting him up. “You wanted me to tell stories, didn't you? That's what I'm doing.” He huffed and tilted his head back, resting it against the wall. “It isn't a big deal. Some seraphim found me abandoned outside the gates as a baby. The Council had to take responsibility, and so I lived at the palace for many decades.”

Sorey blinked as he took the information in. “So you grew up at the palace,” he wondered out loud. “Lailah told me you used to spar with her. What was it like?”

To Sorey’s surprise, Mikleo’s face split into a grin and his eyes lit up, though his gaze never left the ceiling. “It was exhilarating,” he sighed dreamily. “I haven't used my artes in  _ centuries _ ...I’ve never needed to. Only seraphim who leave the city need formal training, but I try to practice every now and then.”

He crossed his arms and grinned; the gesture was almost endearing, and Sorey couldn't help but smile. 

“Remember when we first met, Mikleo?” he asked. “I meant it when I said your artes must be beautiful...I’d love to see them someday.”

“They...they're not  _ that _ beautiful,” Mikleo mumbled, but Sorey saw the red hue on his face deepen, and his smile widened in response.

“I’m sure they are! I think it’s a shame you don't use them more.” He stretched his arms up over his head. “I'm the Shepherd after all...maybe we could travel together someday and you could teach me!”

Mikleo’s eyes grew wide, and he looked at Sorey. “That...that’s all I’ve ever wanted, ever since reading the journals,” he admitted. “To travel beside a Shepherd, and to document our journeys together...that's always been my dream, Sorey.”

Sorey had waited so long to hear those words—to find the answer to the question he had somehow never found the courage to ask. It really was such a simple dream, and knowing that Mikleo had kept it to himself for so long made his chest ache. He wanted more than anything to make that dream a reality.

“But the  _ Council _ !!” Mikleo suddenly spat. “They've rejected my interests from day one. They had no intention of letting me leave the city, and they always hated the fact that I trained with Lailah and read journals all day.”

Mikleo was fuming now, and the tips of his ears had turned red, but there was still an adorable pout on his face. In that very moment, Sorey wanted nothing more than to kiss it away, but he held himself back, too shy to even entertain the thought for longer than a few moments.

“They still made you a record keeper, though,” he offered instead. “Why would they do that if they didn't want you to pursue your interests?”

“They did it to keep me from asking too many questions,” Mikleo grumbled, adjusting his glasses. “When I was at the palace, I interrogated every seraph I could find who was older than me. I asked them why we didn't speak to the humans more, why it was so difficult to get to know them better.”

He smiled bitterly. “Of course, the Council hated that. They needed a way to shut me up. So they made me a record keeper...but not before reminding me of my place, first.”

This time, Sorey did not stop him when he pushed himself off the floor and stood up, placing his hands on his hips. “Humans cannot be trusted, Mikleo,” he mocked, jabbing a finger in Sorey’s direction. “Humans are terrible creatures and we only associate with them because we  _ have _ to. So stop reading those stupid journals that no one cares about and become a mouldy, uneducated seraph like the rest of us.”

Sorey let out a soft laugh. This Mikleo was surprisingly more entertaining than he'd expected. It was nice seeing him able to express his emotions—while he’d been less guarded around Sorey lately, Mikleo still often clammed up when it came to sharing his opinions. This version of him seemed more genuine and free.

“That must've been difficult,” he said, knowing full well by now that the comical retelling was probably vastly different from the stern public lecture Mikleo had really gotten.

“I-it was,” the seraph stuttered. He was swaying slightly now. “But I don't care anymore. I may never become an adventurer, or an explorer, or a P-Prime Lord,” he said, raising his voice and placing a hand on his chest. “But I'm still proud of what I am.”

Concerned, Sorey leaned forward and extended his arms in Mikleo’s direction to steady him if required. “And what is that, Mikleo?”

Mikleo gave him the most serious look he could muster through heavily lidded eyes and flushed cheeks. Sorey’s heart skipped a beat.

“I…I am a  _ librarian _ ,” Mikleo declared.

Then, he slumped forward into Sorey’s arms.

* * *

When Mikleo opened his eyes, he found himself in a room that he did not recognize. There were curtains draped around him, shielding him from the morning sun streaming through the windows, and the mattress he was lying on was soft, so soft that he felt as though he could melt into it completely.

Then, he became aware of the throbbing ache in his skull, and he squeezed his eyes shut, willing the pain away.

_ ‘What happened to me…I was at the palace, talking to Elder Amenoch...and then Edna found me at the banquet table and told me to take it easy...and then...’ _

Everything after that was a blur. He distantly remembered being dragged along, past a courtyard and into a store room. After that, he remembered waking up to warm hands against his face, and the entire room had felt like it was on fire—

Trying to recall his memories made his head hurt more. Mikleo groaned and tried to turn around and bury his face in his pillow... 

...only to find a pair of arms holding in place, wrapped around his midsection.

His eyes shot open.  _ ‘Oh no...oh no oh no oh no.’ _

The sound of his own frantic heartbeat filled his eardrums. Trembling slightly, he craned his neck to see what he had gotten himself into...and found himself face-to-face with a sleeping Sorey.

Mikleo’s mind went blank. Sorey’s nose was buried in his cloak, and his chest rose and fell evenly as he slept on. He was warm against Mikleo’s back, but Mikleo could not for the life of him remember how they had even ended up like this.

Still, Sorey looked so content in his sleep that Mikleo couldn't help but be drawn in. He turned his body as much as he could within Sorey’s hold so he could shift just a little closer.

Then he caught a glimpse of the library through the windows, and all his thoughts screeched to a halt.

_ ‘I...I have to leave.’ _

* * *

When Sorey opened his eyes a few hours later, the space beside him was cold and Mikleo was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to chim for inspiring me to write drunk librarian Mikleo by sending me a clip from the Mummy ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	7. Uncertainty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of unresolved feelings linger in the air after Mikleo's abrupt departure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's taken so long to post this! I have a tendency to shuffle between a lot of drafts when I'm writing, and every so often I need a break from Librarian AU to work on something more self-indulgent in a different vein. Also con prep took both my soul and Aru's RIP
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you all for waiting! As always, I look forward to hearing your thoughts <3

When Sorey woke up and saw that Mikleo was nowhere to be seen, he felt unease settle in the pit of his stomach. At first, he tried to tell himself that Mikleo had probably just gone home, but it was soon followed by several other thoughts which gradually grew more and more urgent.

‘I  _ should have been there for him when he woke up.’ _

_ ‘He must've been so confused and worried…’ _

_ ‘I hope he doesn't hate me now.’ _

The last thought scared him more than anything. Mikleo had become an irreplaceable presence in his life now, even though their time together had been short. The risk of losing Mikleo because of a misunderstanding...the thought of leaving without ever saying goodbye...it was the last thing Sorey wanted.

But he couldn’t afford to be distracted now. Even if the party was over and Sorey was officially recognized as the Shepherd, there was no doubt that the Elders were still keeping an eye on him. He would have to be more careful of what he said and where he went, more diligent in his morning training—

“...oh no, I'm so late!” he cried, jolting out of bed and slipping on his cloak before dashing out of the room. As much as he wanted to fix everything as soon as possible, Mikleo would have to wait.

* * *

Or so he thought. Even after finally meeting with Lailah several hours later than usual and apologizing profusely, Sorey was still unable to take his mind off Mikleo for the rest of the morning.

_ ‘I wonder what he's doing now,’  _ he thought, his eyes drifting up towards the midday sky as the clouds moved lazily past.  _ ‘Maybe he stayed home from the library to rest?’ _

He shook his head.  _ ‘No...Mikleo cares too much about his work. I'm sure he's shelving books right now...writing in his record...maybe helping some other new visitors out like he did when I first—’ _

“Sorey-san, you seem distracted.”

At the mention of his name, Sorey jumped. Embarrassed, he turned to face Lailah. “S-sorry,” he stammered, raising his sword and resuming his drill.

Lailah watched him carefully for a few moments before letting out a soft sigh and stepping forward, placing a hand on his sword arm and interrupting his movements.

“A Shepherd cannot risk going into battle if his mind is clouded,” she said with a frown. “Are you still thinking about Mikleo? About what happened last night?”

He gaped at her. “How did you—”

“Edna-san told me,” she admitted. “I wish I could have been there, but the Council pulled me aside. They wanted me to talk to you.”

He lowered his sword and raised an eyebrow. “About what?”

“They think it's time for you to leave Avarost.”

Sorey froze, and his grip on his sword loosened, sending it clattering to the ground. He shook his head slowly. “I can't leave yet, Lailah. There's...” He turned to gaze at the library in the distance. “There's something I need to do first.”

Lailah closed her eyes. “I don't doubt it, Sorey-san, and I understand your feelings, but you have to remember what you came here for...why you became the Shepherd in the first place.”

He clenched his fists. “I haven't forgotten, Lailah. I care about my family and I know I need to protect them.” His heart twisted painfully in his chest. “ But I can't just leave things unresolved here either. I have to apologize to him...I have to make my feelings clear.”

“You really love him, don't you Sorey-san?”

Surprised, Sorey spun around to look at her. Lailah was smiling now, watching him knowingly. 

“L-love?!” he stuttered. “I…”

Being in love with Mikleo...Sorey felt his heart flutter slightly at the thought. The way Mikleo’s soft smile and calm voice never failed to cheer him up, the way he felt so completely at ease around the record keeper, the way the two of them could go on and on about books without a care in the world…

His thoughts flew back to last night, when Mikleo had finally been honest about his dream. The seraph’s eyes had shone with a light Sorey had never seen before—one filled with hope and the desire to see everything the outside world had to offer. In that moment, Sorey had wanted nothing more than to gather Mikleo in his arms and whisk him away to a place where they could both be free from the Council, from war, and from the weight of their respective burdens. He wanted to see Mikleo’s carefree smile again...to see him use his artes without hesitation...to watch him write in his journal with a confident grin on his face, confirming all the theories they’d ever discussed while lying next to each other beneath the stars…

He let out a soft laugh. “I want to spend the rest of my life with him, Lailah,” he breathed, feeling his chest grow light. “I really am in love with Mikleo.”

Lailah’s smile turned sad. “But you don't know how  _ he  _ feels, do you?”

Her words brought Sorey back to reality, and his grin slowly faded. “...I don’t,” he said, his enthusiasm from earlier gone. “Mikleo has always been a little distant, and I understand why now...it was because he was trying to avoid humans, like the Council told him to.”

He sighed. “He’d been opening up more, though. I was so happy...I thought I was finally getting to understand him better...and then—”

“What happened?”

Sorey sat down and rested his head atop his clasped hands. “Edna probably told you that he got drunk...after that, we talked for a while, and he fell asleep. I didn't know where he lived, and I didn't want to leave the palace, so I carried him to my room so he could sleep there.”

“But you couldn't get him to let go, could you?” Lailah hid an amused smile behind her sleeve. “Mikleo has always been like that, ever since he was a young seraph. Clingy even in his sleep.”

Sorey blushed. “Y-yeah...I had to lie down with him because he wouldn't let go...and then he curled up next to me and started snoring.” He buried his face in his hands. “It was really cute.”

Lailah let out a laugh. “He must have been very comfortable around you, Sorey-san.”

“H-he was drunk!”

“Still!” Lailah clasped her hands together. “The way he is, he would tried to show restraint even in that condition, but he felt safe because he was with  _ you _ .” She leaned forward slightly. “You’re very important to him, Sorey-san, I know it for a fact.”

He sighed. “And Mikleo’s important to me, too...that’s why I need to talk to him.” He clenched his fists in his lap. “I can’t leave things like this.”

Lailah nodded solemnly. “Then go,” she said softly. “You’re excused from training for today.”

Sorey stood up quickly. “Y-you’re sure?”

She nodded again, a soft smile still playing upon her lips. “Yes, but only if you promise to tell Mikleo your feelings. Okay?”

He nodded vigorously. “I will!” he replied. “Thank you, Lailah! I’ll see you later!”

Lailah watched him dash down the steps towards the library, her smile growing weaker as he drew further and further away. She had her duty as Prime Lord, but even so, she found herself wishing that Sorey and Mikleo could have met not as Shepherd and record keeper, but simply as human and seraph, without the burdens of society keeping them apart.

“Sorey-san…” she murmured, looking out over the expanse of the city. “I wish you could stay longer.”

* * *

“Meebo. You're moping.”

“No, I’m not,” a grumpy Mikleo replied, snapping his head up to look at Edna. 

Edna smirked. They were in a far-flung corner of the library which didn’t often see visitors. Only architects who needed to check on the basement came through here, which is how she’d found Mikleo, his head buried in his arms on a table hidden amidst the shelves.

“If you’re not moping…” She tapped her hand against her chin, more a mocking gesture than a thoughtful one. “Then you just have a hangover.”

She was met with a low groan in response. Mikleo lowered his head again until his forehead was touching the table, his eyes still open but his vision clouded with exhaustion. All he wanted was to go back to bed.

Then, the thought of bed brought the hazy memories from last night flooding back, and he covered his face with his hands, thoroughly embarrassed.

“I don't want to think anymore,” he grumbled, his voice muffled by his palms. Edna raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? The great record keeper Meebo wants to stop using his brain? How unusual.” A teasing look made its way onto her face, even if he couldn't see it. “Unless...something happened between you and—”

“I don't want to talk about this. Go away.”

She shrugged. “Alright, keep running from your problems. But if I told you Sorey was just here a few minutes ago, asking for you—”

Mikleo shot up in his seat and pushed himself to his feet, his chair wobbling precariously behind him. He glanced around, trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of the Shepherd’s cloak disappearing around a corner. 

“Sorey, wait—” he began, then froze, seeing the knowing look Edna was giving him. With an annoyed grunt, he dropped back into his chair.

“Stop messing with me,” he said, crossing his arms across his chest. “Why would Sorey come here anyway...after last night, he probably just wants as little to do with me as possible.”

Edna frowned at him. “You're serious?  _ That’s _ what you think that lovestruck Shepherd is going to do? Just abandon you because you got drunk in his presence?” She shook her head. “You have a lot to learn about humans, Meebo.”

Mikleo glared at her defiantly, but he still couldn't help but find her words intriguing. “...like what?” he asked hesitantly.

“Like the fact that they're stupid, stubborn, and sappy. This one in particular is the worst I've ever seen.” She rolled her eyes. “Haven't you seen him pining whenever he's in here?”

Mikleo looked around slowly, trying to avoid the light shining through the windows. “I assumed he was just enamoured by the books. After all, I am, too—”

That earned him a jab in the shoulder, albeit gentler than usual. “Fine, I'll just tell you. He loves you, you idiot.”

He blanched. “ _ L-love? _ Me? But I'm a seraph, and he's a human...”

“Do you think that's ever mattered to him?” Edna stared him down evenly. “You told me that Sorey grew up around seraphim. He sees them as equals. He sees  _ you _ as something more.”

Mikleo was silent. The fact that Sorey might've had such strong feelings for him...he had never stopped to consider it for a second.Could it be possible? And if so, did he love Sorey back? Seraphim were capable of love just as humans were, but it was a different kind of love; a binding love that could last centuries. Did Sorey's feelings even come close to that, or were they shallow and fleeting in comparison?

Edna could see that she had Mikleo stumped—he was staring off into space, a pained look on his face—and she figured she'd given him enough to think about.

“Give it some time, and maybe it'll make sense,” she offered with a sigh. “And talk to him, because I doubt he has the guts to show up here and declare his love for you in public.”

“E-Edna! Not so loud!” Mikleo shushed her, his ears turning red. “Alright, fine, I...I’ll ask him out to a walk or something. In private.”

“How romantic.” Edna rolled her eyes, but her lips were curled into a barely discernible smile. “Now get back to work. We both have things to do.”

Mikleo nodded slowly and stood up, gathering the books on the table into his arms. “I'll go shelve these...and maybe I'll go to the palace afterwards.”

“The palace? Twice in two days?” Her grin grew wider. “You've gotten gutsy, Meebo.”

The record keeper smiled back. “Only for Sorey.”

* * *

When Sorey finally arrived at the library, he was exhausted and completely out of breath. The first thing he noticed was that Mikleo was already in the entryway and on his way out. When the record keeper saw Sorey approaching, he stopped in his tracks, looking visibly surprised.

Sorey doubled over and placed his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. “Mikleo,” he wheezed. “I need...I need to talk to you…”

“S-Sorey,” he stuttered. “How can I help you?”

He felt his heart crack at the uncertainty in Mikleo’s voice. “I...I wanted to explain what happened last night,” he began, looking at Mikleo with desperate eyes. “Please let me explain...I-I swear it wasn't anything bad!”

Mikleo's gaze softened. “I was heading over to talk to you too, actually,” he said. “We have...a lot to discuss.”

He sounded more like his usual self, and Sorey heaved an internal sigh of relief. He reached out as if to touch Mikleo’s shoulder, then hesitated and pulled his arm back.

“Will you meet me here tonight?” he asked instead, clenching his fist but offering Mikleo a small smile.

To his relief, Mikleo returned the smile. “Okay,” he replied, a gentle look in his eyes. “I'll wait for you in the East Wing once I'm done.”

He nodded. “I'll find you.”

They stood there for a few moments, avoiding each other's eyes. For once, Sorey found himself at a loss for words around Mikleo. After last night...he still didn't know where they stood...whether he had the right to visit the library anymore...to visit  _ Mikleo _ anymore.

“Would...would it be alright if I checked out some more journals?” he asked, scratching his cheek hesitantly. “Lailah let me out of training early today, so…”

Mikleo folded his arms across his chest, ever the picture of grace. Sorey could never have imagined this Mikleo being capable of getting smashed at a party if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes—

“Of course.” The record keeper’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “We have some new arrivals, I think. Feel free to ask Uno or Taccio for help.”

Mikleo’s usual distant self had returned, but Sorey didn't really mind. He was willing to give Mikleo as much space as he needed until they were able to sort this situation out. “Okay,” he replied with his usual smile. “I'll go track them down. Thanks, Mikleo.”

The seraph nodded and turned around, heading back into the library. Only after he had vanished amidst the shelves did Sorey let out a slow breath.

_ ‘That went much better than I thought it would...’  _ He ran a hand through his hair.  _ ‘Now I just have to wait.’ _

* * *

That evening, as the skies outside grew dark and the seraphim crowded out of the building, Sorey continued to linger amidst the shelves. He could've gone back to the palace and trained some more, but instead he'd spent all day reading...not that Lailah would consider it a total waste like the Elders did, but there was still some guilt that coiled in his stomach at the thought.

_ ‘Right now, this is more important, though,’ _ he told himself.  _ ‘Especially if it's interfering with my training. Like Lailah said...I can't be a good Shepherd if my mind is clouded.’ _

He closed the book in his hand and placed it on a nearby table before getting to his feet, hands suddenly trembling with a mix of anticipation and fear. This was Mikleo he was about to talk to—quiet, intelligent Mikleo who always analyzed situations before reacting to them. He desperately hoped their conversation would go well.

A few lamps were still burning in the distance, and Sorey decided to follow the glow of candlelight. Sure enough, he found Mikleo mere minutes later in a corner of the East Wing, surrounded by several small piles of books. But there was something different about him, and it took Sorey a few moments to realize what it was.

Mikleo wasn’t wearing his glasses.

He distantly remembered seeing Mikleo like this the first time they’d met...but several weeks had passed since then. Now that he knew Mikleo better, Sorey could see how unguarded the record keeper looked without his glasses on. He saw the subtle changes in Mikleo’s expression as he'd never seen them before—the way his eyes widened, then narrowed at an interesting paragraph, the way they twinkled in the dim light when he found something new. Sorey watched him silently for a few moments, trying to find a good time to interrupt.

The pile of books beside his feet made that decision for him. As he took a step backwards, he walked into the stack and toppled it over, bringing it crashing down to the ground. Sorey jumped, letting out a shout of surprise, and Mikleo stood up abruptly.

Embarrassed, Sorey stepped out from behind the shelves. Mikleo stared at him in shock for a few moments. Then, he quickly searched his pockets until he found his glasses, placing them atop the bridge of his nose.

“S-Sorey,” he said quickly, trying to hide the quiver in his voice. “You surprised me.”

The Shepherd held up his hands sheepishly. “I'm sorry, I didn't want to interrupt. Again.”

Mikleo shook his head. “It's okay. I should have been expecting you to show up, but I lost track of the time.”

Sorey walked over to the table and sat down across from Mikleo, who in turn went back to reading his book. Sorey's smile faltered slightly; clearly Mikleo was still avoiding him.

“Mikleo,” he began, not quite sure where to start. “I was thinking about...you...your glasses.”

He slapped himself inwardly.  _ ‘I got distracted! That has nothing to do with what I wanted to talk about!’ _

The record keeper put down his book and met Sorey’s gaze evenly. “My glasses? What about them?”

Sorey decided to run with it. “I guess... you don't need them to read, do you?”

Mikleo looked down at the table, absently tracing a hand over the pages of his book. “Seraphim usually have perfect vision. Glasses are often just an aesthetic enhancement, and a lot of older seraphim wear them to look more refined or intelligent.”

He frowned. “It's different for me, though. This is embarrassing, but...these glasses help me when I'm around other people. I feel like I can keep everyone at a distance better when I'm wearing them.”

“Oh.” The answer caught Sorey off-guard, and he hesitated before asking his next question. “Then...why are you wearing them now?”

At that, Mikleo flinched. “I-I…”

His refusal to answer made it clear enough, and Sorey felt his heart sink. “You're still trying to keep me away too, aren't you?”

When Mikleo said nothing more, he let out a slow, shaky breath. After their interaction earlier that day, he'd hoped that Mikleo was still comfortable around him, but it appeared that he’d been wrong.

“I...I understand,” he began. “I know waking up in my room must've confused you, but I didn't know where else to take you when you fell asleep! And nothing happened, I-I swear—”

“It's not just that!”

Mikleo pushed himself to his feet so quickly that the chair he had been sitting on nearly fell over. “It's more than that, Sorey! I...I never should've talked to you when you first visited the library.”

If it was even possible, Sorey’s expression grew more crestfallen. Mikleo's earlier words had proved that he'd always been uncomfortable around Sorey, but this was no less than an outright dismissal.

_ ‘I guess...I was the only one who cared this whole time.’  _ Sorey clenched his fists by his sides. ‘ _ Maybe I shouldn't have come here tonight after all...maybe if I'd just left without a word, Mikleo would've been happier.’ _

“Do you...regret talking to me?” he asked hesitantly. A part of him was too afraid to know the answer.

“Yes! I-I mean, no! It's just—” Mikleo placed a hand against his forehead. “I'd made an oath to myself. A promise that I'd never talk to humans more than I needed to. It was because of what the Council had told me about humans—that they were selfish and untrustworthy.”

He let out a soft sigh. “But I was curious. Curious about the Shepherd I'd read so much about. Curious about  _ you _ , who seemed so kind and gentle and equally curious...nothing like the humans I’d heard so much about. And when I got to know you better…when we started talking about the journals that we both loved, I—”

Mikleo finally looked up at Sorey. “I realized how lonely I'd been until I'd met you. I finally had someone who shared my interests, my  _ dream _ .” He bit his lip. “I probably said some weird things last night while I was, uh, intoxicated,” he said grudgingly, “but I'm sure I was honest the whole time...because  _ you _ were there, Sorey.”

“Me?” Sorey felt his heart swell, but he was too afraid to get his hopes up. Instead, he gave Mikleo a questioning look. “I don't understand…”

“Ugh, Sorey, you—” Mikleo buried his face in his hands. “I don't even know how to explain this…”

“No, no, it's okay!” Sorey stood up and came around the table, standing beside Mikleo but staying an arm’s distance away. “I just want us to get along again like we did before,” he admitted, trying to keep the sadness out of his voice. “Just say what you can and I'll do my best to figure it out, I promise.”

When he got no answer, Sorey tentatively reached out and placed a hand on Mikleo’s shoulder. To his surprise, Mikleo didn't shrug it off or make an attempt to push him away. His courage rekindled, Sorey gently brushed his thumb over Mikleo’s shoulder in a repeated gesture of comfort.

“This...this is exactly why it's so hard for me to say,” Mikleo finally said, making Sorey pause in his ministrations. “Ever since I met you, Sorey, it's been...different.”

Sorey felt his heart drop again. “What makes it different? Do I...do I make you uncomfortable?”

“N-no…” Mikleo turned to look up at him. “In fact, it's quite the opposite...I've never been this comfortable around anyone else. Not in all my centuries of living here.”

Sorey sucked in a quick breath. “Not even Lailah and Edna?”

Mikleo finally smiled; a soft smile that made Sorey's knees grow weak. “Those two are like family, and I've always been at ease around them. But you…”

He looked up at Sorey. “You make me feel like I'm home.”

Sorey's breath caught in his throat. In that moment, Mikleo looked so unguarded and free, the smile on his face so gentle and filled with so much affection that Sorey couldn’t believe it was meant for him and  _ only _ him.

_ ‘Just tell him!’ _ his mind screamed.  _ ‘Tell him you have to leave! Tell him how much you care about him!’ _

All the words died on Sorey's tongue the moment he tried to come up with the words to say. His mind was drawing a complete blank—there was no way he could think straight with Mikleo looking at him like that.

So instead, he kissed him.

Mikleo’s mouth was cold and unresponsive against his, and Sorey pulled away quickly, embarrassed at having been so impulsive.

“I-I’m sorry, I should’ve—”

He froze. Mikleo was staring at him with shock and fear and  _ awe  _ in his eyes. Sorey wasn't sure how much longer he could continue to meet Mikleo’s gaze before he buckled beneath it.

“It...it got worse…” Mikleo whispered, placing a hand against his chest. “That feeling...my heart’s beating even faster now…”

“I-it is?” Sorey felt a glimmer of hope stir within his chest.

Mikleo clearly heard the expectancy in Sorey’s voice, because he tightened his grip around himself and took a tentative step backward. “Did you mean for this to happen?” he asked, his voice shaking. “Sorey, what did you do to me?”

The Shepherd let out a laugh. “No, no, Mikleo, it's okay! Here.” He held his hand out to Mikleo, who took it after a moment’s hesitation. Then, he pressed Mikleo’s hand against his own chest, right over his heart.

“Here,” he repeated, warmth seeping into his voice at the subtle change in Mikleo’s expression. “It's the same, isn't it?”

Mikleo nodded slowly, his eyes growing wide. “Sorey...what are you trying to tell me?”

“That our feelings are the same, Mikleo,” Sorey whispered. “I've never felt more at home around someone than I have with you. In a world where most people outside of my village see me as just the Shepherd, you're the only one who knows me as  _ me _ .”

The record keeper let out a slow breath, “And who are  _ you _ , Sorey?” he asked, his voice quiet.

Sorey placed his other hand over Mikleo's where it still rested against his chest. “I'm just a human boy who wants to learn more about the world,” he said simply, a shy smile stretching across his face. “And I'm in love with you.”


End file.
